


Absconding from Helen

by Tsume_Yuki



Series: Champions of Troy [1]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Do I even write any other type of fic?, Don’t copy to another site, Gen, In which the timeline/plot is screwed six ways to Sunday, Not right now it seems, Self Insert, be careful what lies you tell, visions bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2020-12-13 20:37:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 61,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21003812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsume_Yuki/pseuds/Tsume_Yuki
Summary: In which Elena is a reborn soul with too much knowledge, Klaus has never dealt with an agreeable doppelgänger this helpful before, and Kol's just here for the fuck of it (and has totally not been bullied into becoming a school-boy-bodyguard or anything, no matter what Nik says).





	1. Chapter 1

_September 2009_

"Who's she?"

With a smile tighter than she'd normally allow to show, Caroline Forbes follows the new dreamboat boy's gaze, already well aware of what she'd find on the other end. It's the same with every other new boy, the grand total of three that they've had in the past two years. The same with every visiting academic's team, every visiting football team. It's like clockwork, eventually one will catch sight of her and then it's like moths to a flame.

God, why doesn't soft dimples new boy look at her like that?

"That's Elena Gilbert. Don't even bother; she doesn't date and she's had a pretty traumatic year, her parents died and she'd been in the car with them. I mean, she was weird before that, but now she's just..." Caroline trails off, unable to summon the correct adjective to describe how the Gilbert girl's tragic backstory intertwines with her long-standing weirdness. Oh, sure, she could probably drum up a three-thousand-word essay on Elena, but like, who would care for the socio-dynamics of the school's resident loner girl?

"She seems lonely." Apparently new boy Stefan Salvatore.

"We've all tried reaching out at one point; they're was a time when we were best friends as kids. But, you know, some people grow up and others... don't." Caroline smiles, head cocked to a side as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. Stefan Salvatore is drop dead gorgeous and Caroline would very much like to have a conversation to find out more about him, rather than lecturing him about her boring classmates.

Luckily, he seems to read the underlying intentions in her conversation and asks after her plans later today.

Now that's more like it.

* * *

_August 2008_

It is with a bespoke sense of detachment that Niklaus Mikaelson stares down at the letter that resides upon his lap. It doesn't matter that it was dated five months prior to the present, doesn't matter that it's written on cheap quality paper and not a single person he knows would dare try to contact him in such a... half-hearted manner. It doesn't matter that the only person alive who would dare write him a letter currently hates him for the 'destruction' of their family and would sooner see him dead then offer him pleasantries.

What matters-

What matters is-

_'Dear Niklaus,_

_I've been told before I have a face worthy of the portraits of old, but I never really agreed. Not until I heard tales of the exquisite beauty 'Tatia'. I heard somewhere that your tried recreating it with a Bulgarian woman, Katrina, but it was incomplete. I promise, I'll look just a good under a full moon as Tatia ever did; I'd make a stunning subject for a portrait. Some might say it'd be a perfect doppelgänger to the previous one._

_If you're agreeable, we could arrange a meet-up? I'm sure with your vast array of connections you could manage an article in a magazine and slip in an address for me to contact you by; I'll send my reply in a blue envelope as soon as I see you've got my message._

_Ready and willing to strike a deal,_

_-E_

_xxx'_

The sheer audacity withheld in that single sheet of paper. And yet- and yet-

'doppelgänger'. The word echoes in his head like a thunderous bolt. Hammering and clawing away, a shrill call, a shrieking caw.

Doppelgänger.

To drop those two particular names; well, no one in the right mind would do so unless they could deliver. Not even Elijah would do that. His noble brother holds the memory of the first in too high esteem to use her as bait, to taunt him with a slice of hope.

Doppelgänger.

It must be true. If it isn't, if someone has dared send this as an act of mockery... heads shall roll.


	2. I

_12.11.08_

“Slipping out on a school trip? My, my, aren’t we a brave, Little Love?” he says it tauntingly (softly) but, all the while, he remains mesmerised by her face. A doppelgänger, the doppelgänger. It’s without question. He knows that face, sees it in his dreams and visions, watches it evade his grasp in the memories whenever he looks back and seethes. But no, here she is.

The mysterious E, nothing more than a daring schoolgirl who knows too much. 

She’s young, that’s the first thing that registers beyond the face. Certainly not legal, that much is clear. The hair is straight but sheered so short it barely grazes her shoulders. The eyes though, they look at him and they know. Of course she knows, the details of that letter were far too intricate, far too in-depth for her to be so clueless. Were it not for the mention of Tatia, he’d have believed her a lamb Katrina has raised for slaughter. But the other doppelgänger had never learnt the original’s name. It never passed from his lips and he knows Elijah would never have breathed her name either. 

“It’s the easiest way; my adopted dad is a vampire hunter and while he’d never win, he’s still try to keep you away from me.” The girl shrugs, as if to offer a physical representation of ‘what can you do?’. Already so very unlike Katrina. Good. 

The jacket she wears does a good job at attempting to drown her thin shoulders, just as the tan hiking boots attempt to hide how small her feet are. She’s not even an adult yet; certainly not what he had been expecting. Were he a better man, he’d wait until she was older, wait until she’d lived a little. 

But he was too soft with Katrina and look how that ended; a five-hundred-year wait (he’d thought it’d be eternity; thought he was doomed until the end of time) and a vampire desperately trying to outrun him.

He’ll catch her eventually.

He always does. 

“Now, remind me again why I need to do the impossible and resurrect you after our little, portrait session.” It’d been an amusing little anecdote at the time. Now though, he could do her the honour of a portrait. The girl who breaks the curse. And she is a girl, a girl braver than any of her ancestors before her. 

“Because your would-be hybrids need to drink my blood to complete the transition. The original witch was indeed that cruel.” And that, that Klaus can believe. He has his witches, has the life transferal spell and a couple of suckers fool enough to offer up their life-force in exchange for taking the death in the girl’s place. Suicidal idiots but useful all the same.

He has his vampire, has his werewolf, his witch and his doppelgänger. The full moon will bear down upon them when the night falls which means all he requires is-

“The moonstone?” 

Little E hums, drawing one hand free of her pocket. Slim fingers are clenched around the large glowing rock, the silver of her ring reflecting the glimmering light it still exudes.

“Ah, Darling, there are so very few in my good books like you are.” 

“I’m the only name in there, aren’t I?” she asks, all cheek in that big smile as she steps closer, holding out the stone that cursed him so long ago. Klaus catches her hand, drawing it up to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. It’d archaic but then, breaking a curse out of a fairytale is far from regular business. Especially one that involves the death of the sweet maiden. 

“Klaus Mikaelson, the Original Hybrid.” 

“Elena Gilbert, doppelgänger and future resurrectee.” 

The residential school trip extends over three days, which gives him time to perform the ritual, recover and then ensure Elena’s safe resurrection before he has to return her to the bumbling teachers’ custody. Not that they are aware Elena is even on this trip; one quick compulsion has seen to that. 

The drive back to Mystical Falls takes three hours and, in that time, Elena fills the space with her own version of small talk. She talks about her life, about the little brother she’s desperate to keep on the straight and narrow, the doctor parents who want the best for her despite their clashing thoughts on how a little girl should be. She talks about the world she’s seen in her visions, of the vampires she’ll end up loving, hating, dying for. 

And then she asks about him. 

Which of his siblings does he find the funniest, which one would he go to for advice, which would he seek comfort in. Theoretically, she adds, a sly little smile that implies she’s only playing along with the idea that he has no need for comfort. 

And Klaus, Klaus tells her a bit. 

How his two younger siblings are pains in the neck, how Elijah is oh so very noble but hates his guts right now. How Finn is suicidal because he disagrees with Klaus’ methods to keep them alive and he doesn’t have the slightest clue what to do with the fool other than to keep him daggered until a solution falls into his lap. 

Wisely, little Elena Gilbert senses the dark turn of his thoughts and pulls him back, asking after what history he knows. And that is something he has no issue sharing with her. 

He regales her with tales of the battles he’s been involved in, the kings and queens he tricked and twisted. She listens to it all with wide eyes and inquisitive smiles, asking questions here and there to further her understanding. 

Then, they arrive at the ritual site and the time for talking is over. 

Elena Gilbert scuffs her shoe into the hard-packed dirt, ignoring the witches that work around her still form. She had looked small before but now, with the weight of his jacket draped across her shivering shoulders, she’s tiny. Far smaller than she deserves to be. Alas, once this is all over, she’ll have time to grow. He can get more blood from a fully-grown woman, after all. 

They work through the night, the deadline of the approaching full moon due to show her lovely face not long after seven in the morning. He has some witches working on a spell-line to keep anyone foolish enough to interrupt away. His werewolf and vampire are trapped within their respective circles, the wolf already clawing away at the barrier but they will revert back as the sun dawns, forced back into human shape so that he may drink and unshackle himself.

As the clock strikes seven, Klaus makes his way over to the pile of jackets that the girl, that Elena, has claimed for herself. She’s asleep but it does not detract from the dark bags that shadow her eyes, from the paleness of her skin.

“Wake up, Little Love. It’s time.” Thick eyelashes flutter, brown irises chancing a glance up towards him. She does no look at Tatia does in that moment, too young, too innocent. A perfect sacrifice.

“How old are you, Little Love?”

“Sixteen. Younger than any of the doppelgängers before me, right?” Elena pushes herself up until she’s sitting, legs folded and hands clasped in her lap. She’s smiling all the while, such an open friendly face.

“Yet, you’ll outlive both of them.” For a human. Katrina doesn’t count. For every year she has slipped his grasp, he’ll torture her for ten. The one thing she must have done right is whatever child she had before meeting him. There is no other explanation as to how he has found a Petrova doppelgänger.

“Cool. Well, I’m ready, whenever you are.”

He’s careful with her. Makes sure it hurts as little as possible.

And when he lays Elena Gilbert’s dead body upon the ground, it is with the utmost compassionate.

Then, the wolf takes over.

He crawls back to the ritual site an undetermined amount of time later. The witches are still there, though the body of the vampire and the wolf have been removed. Elena still lays upon the ground, still in death and just as young as she was in life. There are three other dead bodies strewed across the ground, another clinging to life as one of the witches casts the life-transfer spell.

Does he need more than one life-force transferred into Elena? No, not really. But he’s not taking any chances. Not if what she says is true. And why would she have any reason to lie? She has stepped forwards to take part in the ritual when she could have kept her head down and stayed away. And her heart never once jumped to indicate a lie.

“How is she?” he demands, snatching up the spare pair of pants he’d brought, shimmying into the jeans with a practiced ease. His muscles are sore, but in a good way. The kind where he’s worked out just the right amount to feel the burn but not be incapacitated by it. Shoulders rolling back, Klaus drops into a crouch, brushing a stray strand of hair back and away from Elena’s face, off those bloodless cheeks.

“She should be waking shortly,” the witch confirms, sucking her lips in as the last one to be drained of his lifeforce drops to the floor. A mere moment later, the girl wakes with a harsh, rasping gasp and Klaus grins, leaning over to stare down into those pin-prick pupils.

“Welcome back, Little Love.”


	3. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second update of the day peeps <3

_15.11.08_

Klaus isn’t anything like she’d been expecting. But, then again, they’d not met as enemies here. 

Sitting upon the bonnet of a car that may or may not have been stolen, Elena Gilbert brushes the sweat-laced hair back from her face, watching the Original Hybrid snap out orders to his gaggle of witches. Or would that be pack? Thinning her lips, Elena rests an elbow upon her knee, chin resting in her hand as she considers the vampire-werewolf again. Attractive, like, hot-damn attractive. But too old for her. At the moment. She’ll age. That’s one thing she’s certain of; Klaus won’t want her vamping it up and forever sealing her human doppelgänger blood away. Which, speaking of-

“Hey, Klaus. Let’s talk babies!” 

Several of the witches splutter at her call, though the way Klaus’ head snaps around to stare at her could be rib-crackingly funny if it’d occurred when she was in a more bubbly mood. Oh well. 

“Pardon, Love?”

“Babies. You know, so I can go about securing the doppelgänger bloodline and all that?” Offering a shrug of her shoulders to accompanying that statement, Elena jumps up and off the bonnet, boots crunching into the half-frozen leaves underfoot. She doesn’t look at the site of the ritual, ignores the phantom pain her neck. It’d hurt less than she’d been expecting, but that doesn’t change the fact she’s been drained dry. Has felt the world darkening as her eyes drift shut. That she’s still alive after it, after dying for a second time is spooky. Cool, but spooky.

“Well, I suppose Katrina must have been young when she had her spawn,” Klaus muses, his chin still dotted with blood. He’s not washed since changing back, not that Elena can comment. She’s probably still got the good ol’ halo of dry blood instead of the teenaged hickey on her neck.

“I have zero desire to raise a kid,” Elena confesses, licking at her thumb and rubbing at her neck. Sure enough, it comes away a dark crimson. Delightful. You’d think one of the witches would’ve had the decency to mop her up a bit for her resurrection. No dice though. “What with throwing my lot in with you, when that eventually comes out, I can’t responsibly bring a life into the world knowing the kind of dangers they’d be exposed to with me.”

Klaus’ smile cuts, eyes like ice chips as he stares her down, suddenly so much closer than he was before even though he’s not taken a single step forward. Man, he’s tall. Will she get any taller than this? Or is she gonna have to perfect walking in heels ASAP?

“That’s a problem, Love. You see, I’m rather set on having your lovely little bloodline continue.”

“Yeah, I’ve no problem with that either. I was thinking egg donation? I mean, if we both went and you vampire voodooed their minds into believing I was a. of age and b. the perfect match for about twenty or so couples, then you’ll have several strands of doppelgänger DNA to keep track of. Probably a better chance of another face that launched a thousand vamps being born sooner too.” Wiggling her brows, Elena jams one hand into the pocket of her jeans, rummaging around for the mint she knows is buried in there somewhere. Man, she’s hungry. Then again, she’s been dead for a day. Maybe two. She’s not sure. All she knows is she’s hungry.

And Klaus has clearly never heard of egg donation by the look of sheer confusion on his face right now.

“Look, not to be a pain, but can I catch you up on the drive back? If I’m not coming off that school bus at the end of this trip, my parents will flip.” And vampire hunting dad flipping would probably not be a good idea.

The drive back is dedicated to plan making. Once she has updated Klaus on the wonders of modern technology and what that means in the medical field, he is very much in favour of her undertaking egg donation. He says he’ll get people on watch for the various children that will come about of her donated DNA, will start looking for places to set the ball rolling as soon as possible.

Elena’s the one that suggests faking her winning some kind of art competition to have her portrait painted. If Klaus has some vampires spotted around the place posing as artists and other models, her parents would undoubtedly feel comfortable enough to leave her alone for it in an official setting. Then, they could have a jolly out and get her bloodline rolling.

Honestly, for the first time since she opened her eyes as Elena Gilbert, it’s starting to feel like this isn’t such an impossible life to survive anymore.

“Well, this is me!”

Hopping out the car, Elena slaps the door shut with a satisfying bang and rounds the vehicle. By this point Klaus has wound his window down, one arm resting across the open surface and a satisfied smile on his face. Pretty.

“January then, Little Love?”

“Make sure whatever donation needles you bring are clean.”

“I’ll see to it love. Here.”

A piece of paper is held between his two fingers, balanced between the two tips and Elena carefully extracts it, inspecting the series of numbers present on the surface. Alongside the neat penmanship of ‘Klaus’ that is.

“Giving your number to an underaged girl, huh Mr Bad-guy?”

Klaus laughs, head tilting to a side and a wicked smirk on his lips. Oh wow, dimples.

“If I wanted a piece of you, Little Love, we’d be in a hotel room already. You’re too young and I’ve been burned by that pretty face before.” He reaches out and flicks the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, smirking all the while.

“Naw, there’s no way you haven’t played with fire before.”

“Cute. Don’t do anything stupid, Little Love. I’ll have eyes watching you until we meet again.”

The engine kicks in and Elena takes the hint, stepping back and away from the car. Sunglasses appear, balanced on the bridge of Klaus’ nose like they’ve been there from the start. Then he’s gone, tearing off up the road to go get up to whatever nefarious plots he’s got cooking.

Elena watches the bumper disappear into the distance and then she’s off, ready to find her compelled teachers and classmates. It’s only a trip to Washington she’s missed, nothing special…

Oh, who’s she kidding? Klaus owes her a holiday in the capital.


	4. III

_10.01.09_

“You sure you want this portrait painting, honey?”

“Don’t be daft, Grayson, of course she does. It’ll look lovely in the living room.” Mom doesn’t even turn around from where she’s staring at the many portraits the line the wall of the gallery in order to wave her husband’s question away and Elena hides a grin behind her hand. Anything for a nice new portrait on the wall. For all that her father’s a vampire hunter, he doesn’t have the slightest clue that they’re the only humans standing in this gallery right now. Doesn’t know that the most dangerous one of them all is making his way over right now.

“Miss Gilbert, I presume?”

At the sound of the accent, Mom swings around to meet Klaus’ stare, a smile slipping across her face as she none too subtly digs her elbow into Elena’s ribs.

“He’s too old for me,” Elena stage whispers, well aware that everyone here can hear it. Her dad makes that funny humph sound, scowling at Klaus like that has a hope in hell of putting him off.

“Not too old; you’ll grow, sweetie. Maybe keep in contact.” Yeah, there’s no way Mom’d be pushing this if she had any idea who exactly this is. It’s funny though.

“I do have a younger brother closer to Elena’s age,” Klaus muses, a wicked grin on his face as he holds out his hand, “Niklaus Mikaelson.” Elena clamps her lips shut and very kindly doesn’t point out that, despite this brother being closer to her age, there’s still a thousand or so years between them.

Mom makes sure she’s comfortable on her stool and looking her best before she leaves. Elena watches her go out the door with a smile. It’s only once they’ve turned down the street that she turns to Klaus, lifting her brows and smirking.

“So, what’s going to be the story on why the painting isn’t complete? Surprise fire? Flare of artistic destruction because it just won’t come out right?”

“Don’t be dull, Love. Its already half done.”

Elena startles when Klaus pulls a cloth away from one waist high canvas, revealing a half-completed portrait that she is indeed the subject of. She’s even wearing the same top. Creepy.

“Well, I guess we’re covered for the day,” Elena says, hopping up and off the stool and bouncing over to the age-old vampire that plants the pre-prepared canvas upon the easel. It looks as if it’s been there the whole time. Elena inspects in, the brush-strokes and the softness of her own eyes staring back at her. Klaus has made her look fantastic and he’s not even finished yet. Her hair needs sorting out, the shading on her face needs completing, but other than that, it’s not far off. Then again, she’s not the artist, so what does she know.

“Eggs today, blood tomorrow?”

Klaus had texted her the plan a few days ago but Elena’s well aware of what the Original Hybrid is like. If he’s changed his mind she won’t be surprised. Ready to go with the flow of it all, yes. Surprised? No.

“Egg donation, dinner, and then an hour or so painting in case your parents return early.”

“Doubt it; Mom loves shopping and we’re in the Washington at the moment. She’ll be lapping up the big city shops.”

Klaus smirks, offering her his hand. Elena slips her own into it, smiles when he plants a kiss to her knuckles before dropping her previously dispatched coat over her shoulders.

“Let’s depart, Little Love.”

* * *

He’s flicking through the latest influx of texts when Elena comes back around from her procedure. He’d heavily implied allowing him to wait in the recovery room with her would be in the doctor’s best interests and they’ve been left alone since.

Tch, humans. 

Rolling his eyes, Klaus scans through the latest update of his brother’s location, fingers of his free hand drumming against the armrest. He’s a fully-fledged hybrid now, Mikael is next on his list to deal with and, quite frankly, he’s rather hoping Elena will have a miraculous solution to that one too. He’d been riding too high on the wave of finally breaking his curse to even consider if the little seer had any ideas he could pick her brain for and some things are best not left to text messages where anyone could pick up her phone. No, he can be patient, especially when he knows he’s got eyes on the girl. Some might say eight vampire guards and three on call witches is overkill, but those some have probably never had to protect something precious in their lives before. Not like Klaus. Elena’s blood is the one commodity he desperately needs, paying for her protection is no issue at all. No matter is she only thinks she has a single bodyguard. 

“Back with the living, Little Love?” 

She blinks, tilting her head back to look at him through hazy eyes and oh, he’d forgotten how dull humans on drugs were. Well, enough of that. 

Selecting one of the nicer scalpels from the side, Klaus carelessly draws it along his wrist, not even grunting at the sudden influx of pain. Thousand years practice; doesn’t even tickle now. 

“Drink up, Little Doppelgänger. We’ve got places to be.” 

Her lips are slow to latch onto his arm, one hand reaching for him to hold the limb steady. As if she has a hope of moving him if he doesn’t wish to do so. Still, Elena drinks, takes one strong gulp before retracting back, licking at the thick droplets that’re smeared around her lips. He can see the moment clarity returns to her face for her lips twist at the flavour on her tongue, eyes darting around for the plastic cup of water he snatches up. 

“First, yuk. Gonna assume that’s an acquired taste. Second, should I have so much energy post blood-drink? I feel like I shouldn’t have so much energy after this. Hey, did they get enough of my genetic material? I do not wanna go through that again.” 

“You acquire the taste upon turning; yes, you should be full of energy now; and yes, they have enough genetic material.” He’d done his research after their first meet up, just to ensure Elena truly knew what she spoke of. He’d made sure they’d take enough genetic material; some to be put into operation now, some to be held back in reserve, just in case.

He will not have another moment like he did after Katrina ran. He will have a backup plan, just in case all the lines die out. He will not be caught flatfooted again.

“So, will I actually get to meet the Mikaelson brother closest to my age?” Elena accompanies her question with a set of wiggling eyebrows and flirty smile. Cute. 

The very thought of Kol and his psychotic ways anyway near his Doppelgänger is enough to have him snarling.

“Once several other problems have been sorted out and I have a… handle on my brother’s behaviour, it could be up for consideration.” When she’s old, grey and death would be a kindness.

Elena hums, slipping off the table onto the bare pads of her feet. She meanders towards her clothing, movements lazy and utterly unbothered by the open back on the hospital gown. Klaus averts his eyes; she’s still a child, after all.

“Okay, I’m dressed. Where’re we going?”

He’s had the reservation booked for the past few weeks; an upstate restaurant the likes of which Mystic Falls has certainly never seen. Elena oohs and ahhs at the sights, head cocked back to take it the great spread of the chandelier with wide eyes that reflect the light of the thousand or so crystals she gazes up at.

“So, what’s good to eat? I’m assuming the usual gammon and pineapple isn’t on the menu here?”

“Oh, Little Love, the menu isn’t even in English.”

She oohs again, snatching up one of the leather booklets that houses the options, fingers racing over the foreign words. Klaus gives it a quick glance over, already well aware he’ll be dining on whatever variation of steak they serve here. As Elena begins to mangle the French pronunciations of the meals, he rather decides now is the time to crack on with his most important line of questioning.

“With my curse broken and you are oh so willing to continue blood donations to a… worthy cause, pray tell, do you have any other miraculous solutions for me? Say, something to do with white oak, perhaps?” And here she smiles, a coy little thing as she plucks up the wine glass she’s gotten filled to the brim with Pepsi.

“How about I tell you about the one vampire who can let you know where your currently detained, desiccated father is, then I give you the location of some white oak?”

“I’d say we’re talking business now, Little Love. You do seem to give me the best presents.”

“Happy New Year then.”


	5. IV

_15.02.0_ _9_

Wickery Bridge is on fire. The flames lick at the sky, hungry tongue clawing upwards towards the low hanging clouds that conceal a slimming moon. Setting down her empty bottle of gasoline, Elena drops to the earth a moment later, elbows resting on her knees and her lips pursed. So, she’s kind of an arsonist right now. But, you know, people die over the wood in this fire. Good people could lose their lives, not so good people too.

An almighty crack has her twisting to watch Klaus or, to be precise, the muscles of his back. He snaps the sign to the burning Wickery Bridge clean in half, tearing one plank free and spinning it around in his hands, weighing his new prize, looking back and forth between both halves. She can’t see his face, but Elena rather imagines its that same smug, self-satisfied expression that she’d seen on his face a month ago when they’d been sitting in that restaurant with a name too posh for her and a menu she couldn’t pronounce. The seafood had been fantastic and it’s probably far too expensive for her to ever fund her own visit, so she’s not too bothered about any of that.

“White oak. Just as you said.”

“Yep, just as I said,” Elena repeats, clapping her hands together and toeing the empty bottle that could probably be addressed as the prosecutions ‘Evidence A’ if she’s not careful enough at disposing it. “You ever gonna stop doubting me, Mr I-can-hear-your-heartbeat-when-you-lie?”

“It’s not every day, Little Love, that I get to enjoy the company of someone who has zero plans to double-cross me. You are a bit of an oddity.”

“Neat.”

There’s a thunderous bang as the first piece of the bridge falls, crashing into the waters below. Elena watches it go, watches the destruction of a site that would one day claim her parent’s lives. Maybe this time she won’t be an orphan. She’d have to get out of Mystic Falls pretty sharpish; there’s still the tomb vampires to content with, still Damon and Stefan who come back to visit in the near future. And that’s not even including the fact Katrine is plotting with her birth mother. Over what, Elena’s not too sure. Nor does she really care to find out right now.

“Don’t get too used to this, Little Love,” Klaus muses, smirking down at her with hooded eyes, hand rummaging into the bag that’s been slung over his shoulder since he picked her up, “I am spoiling you a bit by being on my best behaviour whenever you come out to play.”

“We just set a bridge on fire and you’re calling this your best behaviour?”

Klaus grins, teeth stained red from the blood-bag he drops to the dry earth, a manic light in his eyes that’d probably be very attractive through the glass screen of a television. In person, it’s more than a little freaky. Still attractive, but that scream of ‘danger’ is more than enough to put her off.

Clambering to her feet, Elena snatches up the bottle and pushes it into Klaus’ hands, the wail of sirens echoing through the forest. It’s taken them long enough to show up; the bridge has been on fire for at least ten minutes now.

“Can you vampire dump all this stuff into whatever vehicle you came out here in and then drop me back off home, please? I’m all up for new plots and plans via texts, but I have a chemistry test in the morning and I am very tired right now.”

“Afraid to walk about in the dark now, are we?” ‘_After meeting up with the biggest bad of them all?_’ Elena can finish the taunt for him, her lips twisting into a saccharin smile.

“Of course not; why would I? Unless one of my many vampire guards gets a bit peckish. Say, have you got them hunting out of town?”

No answer comes from Klaus. Instead, she’s whisked up into his arms, bundled close to his chest, and then they’re racing to her house, the wind whipping through her hair and it’s not a pleasant sensation at all.

Still, better than being on fire.


	6. V

17.04.09

It is after accumulating every single speeding ticket possible from Massachusetts to Washington on some poor saps licence that Klaus strolls into the hospital. He certainly wouldn’t be anywhere near this calm if he wasn’t already assured his doppelgänger were alive. Eight vampire guards had been the right call, it would seem. Even if they were only there to pull Elena from the wreck of the car and force healing blood down her throat long enough to ensure she’s survive. The loss of the parents is less than ideal, but she’s got two other living adult relatives. Everything will be fine on that front. 

Emotionally, however, things could get... sticky.

He’s here simple to ensure she won’t do something, drastic.

It takes three compelled nurses until he’s in the girl’s hospital room, having passed the sherif on the walk down the corridor.

Elena looks, small in the hospital bed. The white sheets stretch across the surface, only the shallow crest of her legs, the valley between her knees, indicates she’s present. The rest of her is buried in a hospital gown or near enough entombed by large, overly fluffy pillows. Far different to the girl who had last joked about teenaged motherhood dragging her arsonist spirit down.

Luckily for him, Elena breaks the silence before he can say anything to entrap them in a cocoon of discomfort.

“They were suppose to die going off Wickery Bridge. A couple of months from now and they’d be in the water. I’m in the backseat and I’m drowning. But then, a vampire pulls me out.” She flicks her eyes to him, the deep chocolate tone smeared a dirty coco by the contrasting pale skin and dark rings that bracket her nose. “I didn’t even buy them a few months. My actions got them killed sooner.”

Of course; he’s already received an update that the family were taking the long route out of town, what with the bridge out. That the younger brother was staying at a friend’s house.

Here they are, two dead parents and one orphaned girl later.

Were he a less selfish being, Klaus might have offered to turn her, to let her flip the switch and seal it all away.

But he’s not that nice. He’s not nice at all.

“People die, Little Love. It’s what happens.” _To everyone but me_, goes unsaid.

By the way Elena’s gaze finds him, she hears him regardless.

“I know. It was just... sudden. Unexpected.”

“And you’re not used to being surprised.” Of course she isn’t, gorgeous little seer that she is. It’s probably the source of her untold confidence; the surety of knowing what’s around the corner would make anyone a little more secure in themselves.

“No, not really.” Eyes sliding closed, Elena lays back in her fortress of pillows and blankets, dark hair sweeping forwards to curtain her face. Klaus considers her for a moment and then sweeps the locks back, tucking them behind one small ear. His fingers catch on the duo of silver piercings in the love, a soft series of clicks ringing out as his nails kiss at the metal.

“Don’t do anything rash, Little Love.” He’ll stay in town, just to make sure his Doppelägnger is healthy, hale and mentally stable. Then it’s back to hunting down werewolves and force-feeding them Gilbert blood. His little Hybrid army is coming along rather nicely and it’s clearly pissing off the witches.

Good.

All he needs is to secure the girl, this ‘Anna’ and then his father will be taken care of, once and for all. As soon as it’s all safe, well, he might even let his dear brat siblings out to play. Maybe.

“Give me a month, Klaus. I won’t do anything stupid, but... I need time.”

He gives her time.

He finds Anna, compels the location out of her and then wipes the memory of his visit. Can’t have her running to Katrina with news of their meet up and there’s no reason to kill her. Not yet anyway. Not when there’s a connection to his prey and, no matter how small the chance, this Anna may someday draw Katrina in for whatever reason; he leaves a compulsion on the girl to inform him should Katrina ever contact her and then he cracks on with his task.

His father is easy enough to deal with; the witches have made it remarkably trouble-free, what with the fact he’s chained down, drained near dry of blood.

An easy target.

Klaus stands there for some time, staring at the face of a man who has sworn to kill him, who has hunted him for a thousand years across the entire span of the world.To end it like this, well, it’s almost anticlimactic.

And yet, Klaus is ever the opportunist.

The stake sink home, striking swift and true.

Then, then he burns.


	7. VI

_20.06.09_

“Well, well, well. So, this is the latest doppelgänger, is it?” 

At the accented but unfamiliar voice, Elena snaps her head up and around, startling bad enough that she releases the hold she has on her cone. Its plummet is interrupted as a hand snatched it from the air, holding it out much like a bouquet of flowers should be presented. 

The grinning brunette at the other end of that arm wiggles his brows at her. 

Slowly, Elena accepts the cone back, bringing the sweet treat to her lips in order to scoop off another load of frozen dairy with her tongue. It’s only once she’s swallowed it that she tilts her head to a side and slowly smiles. 

“Hello, mysterious stranger?”

“Kol, Kol Mikaelson. And you’re my brother’s latest doppelgänger.” 

Kol? Oh, so Klaus must have let him out the box. Which means he’s probably dealt with Mikael by now. She can’t think of any other reason why the Hybrid would allow his attention drawing sibling to run riot if not for the fact that the threat has already been removed. 

Tearing a chunk off the side of her cone, Elena leans back on the curve of her heels, inspecting the thousand-year-old vampire before her as she chews. He’s Klaus’ brother, so of course he’s good looking; darker hair, darker eyes, but with that same strong jawline shared between the brothers. The hard line of his shoulders, coupled with the smug little curve of his lips are the first thing to scream ‘wild and dangerous’ in a way that would have all her fellow teenaged girls tripping over themselves to meet him. 

“Guilty as charged. Elena Gilbert, doppelgänger and agent of chaos.” Well, she is, what with the way she has so thoroughly screwed over the whole timeline. She’s very clearly lost the home advantage for when the tomb vampires come crawling out (if they come crawling out) but that’s okay. She’s got Original power back up. Elena... Elena can live with that.

The goal is keeping Jeremy and Jenna alive. It’s keeping Bonnie and Caroline out of the line of fire. Even if she has grown apart from the latter. 

“You wouldn’t be upsetting Elena now, would you, brother dear.” It’s not even a question. 

“Klaus!”

Shoving the last of the ice cream into her mouth, Elena bounced past the attractive Kol Mikaelson in order to reach the equally as attractive Klaus Mikaelson. Other than the occasional check-in text (a form of communication that has far more distance than it did before their last meet up), they haven’t spoken since that awful day at the hospital. And, though it still weighs heavy on her mind, Elena can push past now with only minimal pain. 

She stops a foot before crashing into one of the most feared beings of all time, grinning up at his smugly amused face. 

“Hi!”

“Hello, Little Love. You look well.”

“I am well, as well as can be for little old me. Anyway, what about you? Been up to much mischief, mayhem and marauding?” Elena accompanies her question with a wide grin and fluttering lashes, peering up at Klaus from beneath them, hands clasped cutely before her like an over eager kohai greeting their senpai. His regretfully amused face makes quite the picture.

“Far less than I would prefer. Would you care to join us to remedy that?” 

That’s how Elena finds herself signed up for a road trip for the better part of two summer weeks. While Jenna is dubious about the though of her travelling along with Klaus, the fact that… that Mom had spoken of him before adds weight to his words. That there is actually an outstanding portrait that her mother had commissioned Klaus to complete for her seventeenth birthday cinches it.

A little compulsion never hurt either. While Elena feels a little guilt for that, she cannot deny that she’s excited to get out of town, to travel the great, open planes of America with the strongest being in the world, Even if he is perhaps verging on the most controlling presence in her life.

“Seatbelt.”

Looking up from where she’d snapped the glove compartment open, Elena narrows her eyes in Klaus’ general direction, not bothering to flick her hair back from her face in order to truly glare at him.

“Just because I was snooping, doesn’t mean I was going to avoid the seatbelt. Besides, shouldn’t your super-duper senses alert you to anyone that’ll crash into us?”

“I think a more important question to voice is why I have been regulated to the back.” That, that is a very good point.

Elena ignores the seatbelt and twists in her chair, shoving one leg between the two front seats and over the centre consul, shimmying out of the front in order to join Kol in the back. She pulls her remaining leg over once her rear is parked in the middle seat, thigh pressing against Kol’s as she wiggles her leg free and then she scooches over to the left-hand window.

“You say ‘the back’ like it’s a bad thing,” Elena muses, dragging the seatbelt along the length of her body before snapping it into place with a satisfying click. Neither Klaus nor Kol make a move to put safety first; clearly her best-hybrid-buddy is not a believer in leading by example. Do as I say, not as I do. Ignoring the blatant hypocrisy of her hybrid-overlord/blood-dependent, Elena turns to Kol and drums up her best conspiring grin. “In the front, you’ve got to socialise with the driver or keep quiet. In the back, you get to pretend he doesn’t exist, unless you want to make a menace of yourself and whine for bathroom breaks. Plus, we can totally giggle over embarrassing stories that feature present company.”

“You have embarrassing stories about Klaus?” Kol’s eyebrows shoot up, a menace of a grin stealing across her face and it’s then that Elena knows she’s in good company.

“Of course not. I was referring to me. But if you’ve got tales-”

“Elena.”

“Yes, Klaus?” Leaning forwards, she squirms her shoulders between the two front seats to peer up at their driver, smiling all the while. “How can I help?”

“Don’t push your luck, Little Love.”

“Would I ever do that?” Slapping a hand to her chest, as if mortally wounded, Elena falls back so she’s slouched over the middle seat, the crown of her skull pressing into Kol’s upper arm as she directs her puppy eyes to him. “I just figured that sharing embarrassing stories is probably a lot more family friendly than, say, plotting for revenge or something along those lines. Embracing that whole ‘family sticks together’ business and all that!” Looping her arm through Kol’s, Elena aims a blinding smile towards the central mirror, watching Klaus’ greeny-blue eyes narrow.

“Family, huh?” Kol grunts, twisting to throw an arm over her shoulders, his cheek pressing into her head which isn’t be so bad, if it weren’t for the fact he’s smelling her at the same time. “And how, exactly, do you fit into this family, Darling?”

“The aim is to become the family friend so close that outsiders don’t realise I’m not official one of you and, thus, won’t fuck with me by association.”

At that, Klaus does laugh, dark and bitter and full of twisted humour.

“So delightfully, brutally honest. You two are barred from getting too friendly.”

“Too friendly, eh?” Elena muses, chancing a glance up at Kol and shooting him a flirty wink. She doesn’t have the slightest idea how long he’s been… awake, other than it’s clearly been long enough that he’s gotten himself suited and booted in twenty-first century gear. He recognises her tease for what it is, an innocent shot at the big-bad in the front seat, and retaliates on his own by shuffling to better sprawl out across the middle seat too.

“You know what, Darling? I think we’re going to get along famously.”


	8. VII

_20.06.09_

They’re here to deal with some too-big-for-their-boots witch coven who’ve pushed just a little too much into werewolf territory for his liking.

Normally, Klaus wouldn’t give a fuck about it all, but he’s been eyeing up this pack for hybrid-transformation for a while now and he’ll be damned if he has to start from scratch with a new one. Elena’s here given her status as blood-bag to transform enmasse, and Kol… Kol is both a glorified blood-bag-bodyguard, and witchy-Wikipedia. Even if some of his information is… outdated. Speaking of the Wily Fox-

Klaus meets his brother’s gaze through the centre mirror, watching the smug bastard grin and thread his fingers through the sleeping Elena’s hair. He’d been explicitly clear with his instructions before they had approached Elena; don’t fuck with the girl’s head, don’t let anyone else fuck with her head, and don’t let anyone lay a finger on her. He’d outlined the fact Kol was out of his coffin to act as protection and, should he fail, Klaus would chase him to the ends of the earth to dagger him again. And there would be redemption arc after that.

Klaus is no fool; he’s well aware Kol will be gunning for some type of vengeance. What form that vengeance will take, however, is up for debate (and without Elijah on side, daggering the slippery bastard could become a bit... tricky).

But he sure as fuck won’t give Kol a chance to destabilise his doppelgänger. Klaus will not even allow him to do much as think that an option. The only question now is, how easily will he be able to pry Elena away from his wild brother? Because, given the way she’s sprawled across him in her sleep, prying is what it will take. From the smug look in the little bastard’s face, he knows it too.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“Ideas? Me?” Kol sarcastically scoffs, smoothing down a section of Elena’s hair with one hand, the other running a single finger down the pale column of her neck. Klaus growls, a warning and threat all in one, and the finger retracts. “I don’t have ideas. I have flashes of brilliance. And I think we’ve hit it off rather well, don’t you? I mean, she’s all over me.”

Unfortunately, Elena picks this exact moment to shuffle around on Kol’s lap, burying her face into the relax-fit hoodie that pools around his waist,

Klaus barks out a sharp, amused laugh when Kol yelps and Elena jolts up into a sitting position, eyes full of mischief and a grin on her face.

“I couldn’t help it.”

“You bit me.”

“I playfully nipped you,” Elena corrects with a flash of white teeth. It has Klaus smirking as he pulls over into the hotel car park, the... ‘borrowed’ car purring to a stop.

“If it’s playful nipping you want, then I’m more than willing to oblige, Darling.”

“And that is quite enough of that,” Klaus cuts in with all the ruthless efficiency of an expert butcher. Both menaces straighten at his tone of voice, even if Kol corrects his posture into something more defiant a moment later. Brat. Not that he cares to correct him right now. Informing the duo of the current issue at hand takes precedence, after all.

They book out a two room suite, simply for the sake of keeping up appearances. He had toyed with the idea of claiming Elena as a younger sister for the facade’s sake, but had decided to allow the girl herself to weave the tale. She’d chosen the classic ‘friends on summer break’ concept, wild and young with too much time on their hands. Even if Klaus did look physically too old. Chances are good that they’ll assume he was kept back a year or two, or maybe they’ll even notice his resemblance to Kol and conclude him the mature, elder brother. He doesn’t care for their assumptions, only the results.

Once the duo are up to speed, once Elena’s suitcase is deposited on the room’s floor and she’s digging through its contents, then Klaus decides its time to reassure himself of his footing.

“I plan on turning at least ten of the werewolves.” The ‘when I can get my hands on them, probably after tearing through the witches’ is implied. His doppelgänger hears it loud and clear.

“Got ya’. Give me a slap up meal with all that juicy red meat, some super-cereal for breakfast, and a chaser of your blood when the deed is done, and we’ll be all good.”

“And me? For what horrid, bloodthirsty battle have you dragged me here to partake in?” The saccharine smile Kol gives him drips in acid. He’s well aware of what the little bastard is up to; he think Elena’s gonna flip because he’s shoving a bodyguard down her throat. He thinks that she’s going to be offended, that she’ll turn on him and demand to be stripped of his presence and that Kol will then be free to come and take part in the good, ol’ fashioned slaughter.

It gives Klaus great pleasure to look right into Kol’s eyes, smile and announce “you’ll be guarding my doppelgänger from harm.”

“Neat-o, a playmate! Hey, do we have to stay in the hotel room, or can we go play mini golf or something?” Elena whips free a pair of barely-there pyjama bottoms from her suitcase as she questions this, turning those big doey eyes on the both of them. Even now, a thousand years later and having run into that face once before on another, he’s still reminded of the original. Of Tatia. He’s practiced enough to push down the swell of emotions, has long gotten over any kind of hesitation that face inspires.

He can still recognise it’s a pretty face though. 

Kol has never been interested in Tatia, claiming the luggage of a child bore him no interest, and he hadn’t been around for Katrina.

He is around for Elena, however.

Klaus resolves to keep a firm eye on the wily brat.

“Mini-golf, have dinner out, go to astrip club for all I care. Just remain on this side of the river.” He’ll be waging his one-man war against the witches on the other bank-side; Kol knows enough about witches to keep Elena well aware and he should be wise enough to recognise a trap before it’s sprung.

They’ll be fine.

He really shouldn’t have been surprise that, once he’d secured several wolves for transformation, that he tracks them right to the door of ‘Teasers’. 


	9. VIII

_21.06.19_

“Weeeee!”

There’s a thump behind her as Kol jumps on the back of the shopping trolley, having finished running perhaps a little too fast for a human and now they’re hurtling down the first large hill with a reasonable incline they’d been able to find. The wind tears through her hair as sweat laced humidity crushes up against her skin, but all Elena can do is release a wild laugh as they continue their downward charge. Kol snickers and the sound is far too close to her ear, the heat of his breath curling against column of her neck. His broad hands are clasped on the edges of the trolley he must be leaning over, not too far away from where her own are placed. The world whizzes by around them, a blur of shadowed colours that flash in the passing streetlights. Her legs ache, the edge of the metal cart pressing into the tender junction behind her knees but Elena’s having far too much fun to care. God, it’s no wonder the drunkards clamber into shopping trolleys and get themselves transported about like that; it’s great fun.

They halt so suddenly that Elena swears viciously beneath her breath, one hand instantly going to her neck to rub at the now aching muscles.

“And what, exactly, are the two of you doing?”

“Oh no, it’s the fun police,” Elena whines, burrowing down into the shopping trolley’s protective, metal ribcage. Behind her, Kol huffs a laugh and then there’s suddenly a leg worming its way in behind her. “No, wait! You won’t fit!” Even as she gasps it, Elena wiggles about, making room for the younger Original that’s clambering into join her in shopping cart bowels. It’s cramped and Kol is warm; it’s not exactly a pleasant sensation. Probably be better in winter. Then they’ll have snow and an equally big hill and probably a sled to do this properly on.

Now seated in Kol’s lap, Elena throws one arm over his shoulders and grins up at Klaus. He’s got the shopping trolley by one hand to keep them stationary, making it look effortless. As if there isn’t two people’s weight and gravity itself working against him.

“Have you been drinking.”

“Nope! That’d harm my liver and I need that.” Elena pats her belly in what she estimates her liver resides, choosing to instead focus upon her Hybrid of a friend. He’s clearly changed his clothes; even if she hadn’t seen him before this, the smattering of blood on his neck that just suddenly stops where the line of a higher collar would reside is evidence enough.

“Sorted your witchy-problem?” Elena asks, cocking her head to a side. And no, it isn’t to purposefully force Kol to have to breath around her hair, funny as it is to hear him spluttering away.

“Yes. I’ve got a couple of wolves that’ll be sampling your blood tomorrow, all volunteers for the process too. My question, Little Love, is what exactly have you been up to tonight.”

“Is this about the strip club?” Looking at Klaus’ face, she’s gonna assume it’s about the stirp club.

Once she’s condensed the entire story into a few snapshots (Kol asked what a strip club was, Elena explained, they both got curious, Elena found the place and Kol… ‘suggested’ to all the other occupants that tipping five times the normal amount would be a good idea, had been followed by a spot of midnight mini-golf and a trip to the local supermarket), Klaus releases his hold on the shopping cart and they go toodling down the rest of the hill. It’s a bit of a let-down really, given the fact Klaus had stolen all their previous momentum by snapping them to a stop.

It is, however, a comfier ride sitting in Kol’s lap. With his arms wrapped tight around her waist, undoubtedly to further upset Klaus, he seems quite content too and, with the early morning air finally cooling down, it’s actually quite nice to snuggle up to him.

“Now that you’ve indulges in your childish whims, shall we return to the hotel?” Klaus asks, as if stuck somewhere between boredom and coming down from an adrenaline high. Probably from whatever fuckery he’s got up to with the witches because, once again, he’s still splattered with blood in some placed.

Planting one hand firmly on Kol’s shoulder, Elena holds the other out for Klaus to take, clambering out of the shopping cart onto unsteady legs. Man, she is actually pretty tired. Sleep sounds pretty good right now. Wobbling a few steps forwards, Elena shakes her head and looks for her bag, inspecting the bottom section of the trolley before finding the thing hanging by the handles on the back. The water bottle inside is half full and she downs it quickly, wiping the excess off on the back of her hand.

“Okay, yeah. I’m ready for bed now. Let’s go.”

* * *

Watching the doppelgänger natter away at Nik as he sets up the blood extractor thing, Kol lowers himself into the hotel seat and swills the bourbon in his hand. He can’t hear what they are saying, too enthralled with the technology that plays music straight into his ears. Elena’s ‘iPod’ is a marvel, though the sound of music has changed drastically since he last heard it. Oh, it’s great, don’t get him wrong. There’s something wilder, freer, to the tunes he hears now than what’d been going around the last time he’d been up and walking around. Queen, The Rolling Stones, And now The Killers; at least Nik has decided to get his act together and make the mistake of undaggering him in this decade. Though, if what he says is true and that Mikael is no longer an issue... perhaps he’s out to stay.

Doesn’t mean he isn’t going to forget about revenge. He needs to reestablish himself, to come up with a plan to make Nik suffer as much as he has. He wonders if his lovely New Orleans witches got around to having any kids.

Regardless, while he looks for options (though he’ll probably end up making his own, as he always does), there’s nothing to stop him from enjoying the here and now. If that involves making a menace of himself alongside Nik’s pretty little doppelgänger, then so be it. The bastard had already gotten oh so deliciously twitchy simply from them rolling down a hill. Running riot with the girl is fun on its own, the added bonus of pissing Nik off? Yeah, he’s down for that.

Who knew doppelgänger number three would be so chaotic? Third time is the charm after all, it would seem.

One pale hand waves about before his face as Kol snaps it up in a hard grip before it can get any closer. He can feel the full body flinch from contact with the limb alone.

Big brown eyes stare back at him, a little testy in the corners and oh? He can smell blood, sharp and strong on his tongue.

“Release Elena. Now.”

Nik’s voice cuts through the ‘ear-buds’ and Kol release the wrist in his grip, carefully taking a hold of her fingers and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“Sorry, Darling. Not a big fan of surprise limbsin personal space.” Especially if they’re carrying a dagger. From the smirk on Nik’s face, he knows it too.

Pretty and pouty huffs, cupping the sight that Nik had drawn blood from with one hand, though a small smile curves her mouth.

“It’s cool. You can make amends by being my bestie in all things chaotic and exciting. We can be in cahoots!” Her teeth shine as she speaks, face pale from the blood that has drawn free, the grit of sleep still tainting the corner of one eye.

Ah, fuck it. Haha not, he can always bail if it proves to be boring.

“Alright, Trouble. I’m in.”


	10. IX

_05.09.09_

‘_How’re your adventures in the big bad world going? xx’_

Elena rolls over on her bed, staring morosely up at the ceiling, at the patch of sunlight that bleached the roof a startling white, having reflected off her bedroom mirror to end up there. She’s bored, hopelessly so. There’s only two days left until the start of school and she’s seen neither Klaus nor Kol since the fortnight she’d been introduced to the latter. Sure, she texts Klaus all the time, predominantly out of boredom; he’s the sole person in her life that knows almost all of it, after all. But it’s nice having someone else in the know supernatural-wise who she can bug.

Plus, Kol is full of the wildest stories, the tallest tales. And he knows his shit; three nights ago, she’d been treated to a clearly needed rant on what a small coven of witches were doing wrong down in Texas. Why Kol is even down there, Elena doesn’t have the foggiest idea. But she did ask him to bring back a pair of authentic cowboy boots. Or a hat. And that she’d treat him to dinner when he swigs ‘round in return.

Her phone vibrates against the curve of her collarbonerhr sensation dancing across her flesh and Elena scoops it up, eyes flashing over the words.

‘_It’s changed a lot; bigger and smaller, all at once x’_

_‘Where are you at right now? xx’_

_‘Some tiny, out of the way town, though the inhabitants clearly think it’s important 🙄x_’

Elena snorts, rolling over again so she’s belly down, legs kicked up in the air behind her, swinging back and forth.

‘_Sounds like a place I know xx’_

There’s three thunderous bangs on the door, Jenna calling that she’ll get it from the kitchen. Elena knows she should be getting up for breakfast, but she’s still trying to come up with a plan of action for the day. She‘s supposed to be running riot with Jeremy today, but the little weasel has ditched her for a date with Vicki. She’s not too hot on that relationship, but as long as he’s not doing drugs himself, well, she can’t exactly stop him from hanging out with the druggies. Even if she’d like to.

“Elena! It’s for you!” Oh? Not many people call for her; once they’d hit teenaged years and it’d become obvious Elena was a bit, stranger than the rest of them, a few friendships had worn. Apparently, being active and unrestrained as a kid is good fun, but it’s too much hassle for teenagers. Which, you know, sucks. But she’s got over it.

With another roll that she doesn’t abort halfway through, Elena throws herself off her bed, only just managing to get her legs under herself as she dashing out the bedroom door, barrelling down the stairs with all the grace of a newborn gazelle. She glances down at her phone as she descends, sock-clad feet slipping on the second to last step before she catches herself.

_‘I bet it does; supposedly, there’s a witch family here, said to be from quite a powerful bloodline. Could be useful. Hoping I can stay with a friend though x’_

“Hello, Trouble.”

“Kol!”

Jogging that last stretch of hallway, Elena reaches forwards with grabby hands and Kol reels her into a hug, arms around her waist and he spins her. How ridiculous. They’re both idiots who struck up a solid friendship after fourteen successive days in each other’s company and continued to expand by way of text; it’s great. And, while she’s well aware that he’s plotting to get back at Klaus (even if her ‘visions’ hadn’t told her that, Klaus himself giving that information away certifies it), not all of it can be faked.

She considers him a friend, regardless.

Kol plants her feet back on the ground and grin at her, adjusting the rucksack he’s got thrown over one shoulder. Oh! She’s the friend!

“Hey, Jenna, can Kol crash here for a bit please?”

Swinging around to stare imploringly at her guardian, Elena drums up her best innocent face, all sweet smiles and soft eyes. Jenna’s lips thin; it’s clear she’s trying to suppress a smile, even as she looks to Kol with her best serious face (it’s not very serious).

“Are you the younger brother of the artist? The one Elena’s always texting?”

“That’d be me; I wasn’t aware Elena had an older sister.” And he winks.

Elena can’t hold back the laugh; it tears free of her throat and echoes through the hallway, bouncing off the walls and picture-frames. She wrestled some control back into her limbs, and Jenna’s amused smile is worth the effort it takes.

“Alright, Mr Charming, you can camp in the spare bedroom. But if you both go out, make sure you have Cinderella home by midnight.” Then Jenna’s off to go save their late breakfast, which can only be the source of the smokey scent that’s invading the room. A good thing too, otherwise she would have seen the confusion that knits across Kol’s face for the reference.

“Man, we have got to catch you up on all things Disney,” Elena mutters, gesturing for the vampire to come in. The look of irritation he gives her is worth the payback she’s sure’ll come later.

“What, do you need a written invitation or something?” she asks, smirk edging across her lips as Kol folds his arms and leans back on own foot. The short sleeved shirt is tight over his biceps and Elena’s eyes linger a bit too long because soon enough, Kol starts mocking her by flexing his arms. Attractive bastard that he is. “Oh, Mr Kol Mikaelson, won’t you please bring your gorgeous ass inside?”

“Thanks for the invite, Darling. Now, I don’t suppose you know a ‘Sheila Bennett’, by any chance?”

Like a true gentleman that he’s pretending to be, Kol takes on for the team and eats the burnt pancakes. Elena watches him in disgust, her own cooked to a lightly toasted golden brown.

As she’s leaving for university, Jenna gives her a wink behind Kol’s back and mouths a quick ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’ to her. Given how terribly most of Elena’s friendships have ended, it’s no surprise her aunt is thrilled that she seems to be hanging out with someone; especially a new someone. A new got someone.

Only, Kol isn’t a new hot someone to her. He’s her wild-card friend who’s texted her near everyday since they last saw each other. Don’t get her wrong, Klaus does the same but there’s something a little less... intimidating about the younger brother. Oh, he’s still feral, but the kind of feral that’s strategically planned, driven by his own desires- she’s not making a hell of a lot of sense right now.

As Jenna disappears out the door, Elena snatches up her phone and fires of a quick text to Bonnie, asking if she’s open for company. Sheila will probably be off working until five; if Kol wants to talk witchy, he’s gonna have to spend the day entertaining the two of them.

“Alright, Trouble, what’s with the face.”

“Nothing. Today’s just gonna be a good day, is all.”


	11. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second update of the day; things'll probably go slower update-wise now that I've caught up to where the Prolouge started. So, yeah, we're full circle now? So begins Part II, I guess.

_05.09.09_

Shopping bags laced up his arms, Kol rolls his eyes skywards as he trails after Elena and her not-in-the-know witchy friend. Bonnie Bennett has a hell of a bloodline to live up to, based on some of the stories he’s heard. And she doesn’t have a bloody clue that she’s spent the majority of her day hanging out with a vampire. If he were one of the idiots who didn’t know how helpful witches could be, if he were one of the vampires who saw them as the enemy, he’d have snapped her neck with no resistance whatsoever. Shelia Bennett needs to up her game on this, that much is for sure. 

“Come on in, Kol, you can wait inside until Grams gets back,” Bonnie announces, gesturing for him to follow her and Elena into the house. This is it, the glaringly obvious evidence that the girl is uninformed.

“Though I’ve no idea why you want to talk about Grams’ weird hobbies.” A frown pulls at Bonnie’s lips and Kol steps over the threshold, depositing the bags in the hallway. One toppled over, a delicate summer dress spilling out the plastic confines. It’s made from the stretchy cotton he’s seen in a few shop windows, so different to the fabrics that were on offer during his last stink walking around. Though, if all goes to plan, Nik won’t dare to entrap him in the coffin again. Bastard. 

“Tell me the chocolate didn’t melt,” Elena moans, dropping to her knees by the bags and rummaging through.

Kol watches her with a smirk, well aware the chocolate in question resides within his jacket pocket. From the way Elena’s burrowing hands slow and her head swings around so she might stare suspiciously at him, he rather gets the feeling that the doppelgänger suspects some trickery is afoot. 

“Kol. Where is it.” 

“Where’s what, Trouble?” He doesn’t move as Elena stands up and proceeds to shove her hands into the pockets of his jeans, fingers digging into the thin layer of fabric that separates his skin from hers. A moment later, those same searching hands descend into the back pockets of his jeans and Kol plants both hands on her hips, keeping her at a reasonable distance.

Though not so distant she can’t grip his ass. Huh.

Note taken, twenty-first century women are less shamed by their actions.

That Bonnie is laughing at the current state of things makes that all the more obvious. 

“Kol.”

“Elena,” he drags her name out after her short snap of his own, smirking down at the fiery little doppelgänger. The next moment, she gives his ass a squeeze with one hand, the other diving for his jacket pocket.

That’s the ‘crime-scene’ Sheila Bennett walks in on and the reason Kol becomes reacquainted with a witch-induced headache. 

By the time he can fucking think again, he finds Elena stood between him and a very horrified looking Sheila Bennett, the young Bonnie hidden behind her grandmother and looking terribly scared. When he can peel his eyelids back and focus on the sharp lines of Elena’s form, his ears tune back into the conversation.

“-could you invite one of them inside!”

“Bonnie invited him in because you’ve not told her anything. Besides, Kol’s harmless-”

Elena cuts off as Shelia Bennett gasps in horror, wide eyes staring at him and he can feel the tingle of pain blossoming again. Elena steps between him and Shelia once again and Kol decides that’s quite enough of that.

He snatches Elena up, speeding them further into the house, the movement followed by Elena’s sharp gasp of surprise. He dumps the girl behind the couch, taking cover there himself as several knives fling themselves in their direction.

“Now I know we couldn’t have possibly met, so I’m assuming my name is still making rounds through the grapevine?”

“Grams, what the hell is going on?!”

“As the only supernatural without any powers of her own, can I please ask we talk about this? Like sensible people?”

Slowly, Elena peers over the edge of the sofa. Kol quickly pulls her back down, wary that the witch may still launch sharp projectiles at them. It’s not just because Nik was very clear on what will happen should the doppelgänger come to harm, but also because he really could do with his current partner in crime not bleeding out in front of him. If he has to turn her into a vampire, things’ll get tricky. And he really doesn’t want to spend a few hundred years avoiding Nik.

“Sheila please, there are plans in motion to release the tomb vampires and I’m going to need your help to minimise the casualties.”

* * *

Bonnie Bennett listens with a distinct sense of detachment as her Grams and Elena explain the secrets of the world to her. Any other time, she’d have laughed it off, claimed Grams had gotten into the liquor again and worried that Elena was listening a little too much to her wild tales.

It’s kind of hard to put down when formerly-hot-guy turns on the whole ‘fang-face’ thing as physical proof.

That and the fact Grams had spelled knives after him. It should probably concern her more than it is but, right now, Bonnie’s relatively sure she’s in shock.

“I won’t help you,” Grams states, staring hard at Kol- at the vampire. He frowns, head tilting to a side and Bonnie can’t read him at all. Not a surprise because, apparently, he’s over a thousand years old. Like, what the actual hell. What she wants to know is what the hell happened between Elena and the vampire for her best friend to feel so comfortable sitting beside him. Because if Elena wasn’t comfortable, she would be doing her damn best to extract herself from the arm around her waist.

“That’s a shame, your bloodline is strong,” Kol huffs, planting his chin on Elena’s shoulder and leaning that little bit more against her. It takes Bonnie a moment, but she registers that his mouth has gotten closer to Elena’s neck and that’s exactly why Grams has gone statue-still. “Guess I’ll have to try some of the other branches.”

“No self-respecting Bennett- no, no self-respecting witch would ever help you. You are a crime against nature.”

“You think I wanted this!”

Bonnie screams, leaping back as the vampire roars at her Grams.

He’s on his feet, prowling back and forth in the small confines of their living room. Without the thousand-year-old vampire attached to her side, Elena suddenly looks a lot smaller on their couch.

“You think I actually wanted to be transformed into this! You think I wanted to lose my magic, to be tied down with this rampant bloodlust and these heightened emotions!” The sheer volume the vampire’s thunderous voice reaches had Bonnie’s ears ringing.

Elena’s hand is on his, forcibly drawing him back and away from them. When had he even gotten that close?

“I think we’ll go now. Sorry to intrude on your evening, Sheila. I hope you’ll at least think about what we’ve told you,” Elena’s eyes flicker to her then, wet in the corners and even though her lips are smiling, her expression is sad. “Sorry to dump all this on your, Bonnie. I hope I’ll see you again at school.”

Kol Mikaelson, a vampire that her witchy-powered Grams fears, storms to the door, dragging Elena along with him. The force at which the door closes rattles the glasses, the ornaments, the very walls themselves.

There’s silence between the two of them then, Grams still sitting on the sofa with her fingers clenched in her skirt, Bonnie standing with her arms wrapped around her waist. Just what has Elena gotten herself into?

“Oh, Baby Girl. I guess I’ve got no other choice but to train you up now.”


	12. Part 1 - Chapter 1

_07.09.09_

“Hey, it’s Elena, right?” 

Glancing up from the notebook she’s been doodling on, Elena tucks one lock of hair behind her ear and considers the vampire before her. He’s attractive, with a jaw that could be chiselled marble and the classic, brooding eyes. Wow; why is it all the supernatural she knows are ridiculously attractive? It’s not fair in the slightest.

“That’s me!” she chirps, twirling the pencil between her fingers, from grip with her forefinger down to a pinch between her thumb and little finger. Part of her wonders if she should contact Klaus now, to let him know things are kicking off. But... the last Klaus knew, Stefan was a ripper. Her lovely hybrid protector/boss-man would undoubtedly flip his lid, drops everything and hightail his ass over here to extract Stefan’s fangs or something. Nah, in all seriousness, he’d probably just compel him into never drawing a drop of her blood. But that doesn’t solve all the problems that comes along with him.

Oh, decisions, decisions. 

“Elena Gilbert, local weirdo and, well, newbie occultist, I guess.” 

At Stefan Salvatore’s quizzical stare, Elena shrugs her shoulders and tries not to break out into tickled laughter. She can almost hear Kol on her shoulder, begging her to go along with it all, to string it out as a joke and make the vampire sweat, wondering if she knows about him or not.

On the opposing shoulder, Klaus pulls at her ear and snarls to stay the fuck away from the ripper, to ring him immediately so he can steamroll into town and crush all resistance in his living doppelgänger idea. 

What does it say about her that two Original vampires represent her moral compass right now? Perhaps it states something as clearly as the fact she ignores both and forges on with her own path. 

“And you are?”

“Stefan Salvatore. Zach is my uncle.” 

She knows of Zach, only vaguely. He’d had dealing with her father, that much she can remember. Isn’t it more like Stefan is Zach’s uncle? She’ll have to look into that one, it’s not like she’s memorised a family tree or anything. Double checking her facts can only be a good thing.

“So, the occult? What’s that all about?” He slides into the seat beside her as he speaks, bag hitting the floor with a soft thump and a pen now between his own fingers. He spins it around each one of his fingers with an effortless efficiency; it makes her so jealous. Stupid super cool vampire reflexes. It’s the same reason Kol’s won every last one of their Mario-Kart games so far. Barring Double-Dash in which their tag-team action dominates all CPUs. 

“Magic and stuff. This town has a long history that intertwined with all sorts of legends; vampires and witches and werewolves. My ancestors kept a book about it all and I’ve been reading it. ‘S pretty cool.” Hammering the end of her own pen down on the surface of her notebook, Elena watched the point surface retract into the mechanical tip, the slightest amount of ink beading on the tip. She chances a glance at Stefan again now to find him staring, a bemused smile softening the edge of suspicion that resides in his eyes. 

“And you believe in all that?”

“While I suppose it’s possible my ancestor was tripping on acid, it’s kinda hard to deny when you’ve met a vampire.” And she winks at him. Let him make of that what he will; right now, Elena has history class to focus on. It’s the only one that she finds difficult, predominantly because she’s never studied American History before. Luckily enough, she’s in contact with two old-as-dirt brings who, between the two of them, can probably help with whatever ease at question she gets lumped with. 

Maybe three ‘older-than-they-should-be’ acquaintances, if Stefan decides to stick around. 

They don’t speak again through the lesson (she must give off a relatively studious, focused aura). Stefan Salvatore does, however, catch her in the corridor after they’re dismissed. With her notebook cuddled to her chest and pen clipped onto the hardback cover, Elena falls into step with her new companion, flicking a quizzical glance to his eyes. They’re green and terribly pretty. But then, so’s the teal and hickory that the Mikaelson boys boast between them. 

“I’m sure that everyone else in school has just as many weird hobbies as I do; I’m just more open about them.”

“Not quite sure many others will be into the occult,” Stefan Salvatore admits, running a hand through his hair. Three passing girls all follow the motion with their eyes and Elena can’t blame them. 

Once again; terribly pretty. 

Elena stops, jolting one hip out to the side to look Stefan over, wondering just how he’s coping on the ‘bunny diet’. 

“Are you implying you’re interested in my subject of fascination, Mr Salvatore?” 

“I’m implying I’ve got a few ties to it myself and would be willing to discuss, Miss Gilbert.” He matches her tone, matches her words, and Elena smiles. How charming. Now if only he could stop looking upon her as if she were a ghost. It’s far from his fault; Klaus had been the same in those first few days too. Even with Kol there had been the flash of recognition, a face shared by three others throughout history can lead to nothing else. 

But they see Elena now, past the doppelgänger, no matter what title Klaus gives her. 

With time, so too will Stefan. 

“Okay then. I’m all for making new friends, especially ones that show interest in my interests. We can maybe talk at lunch tomorrow?” Cocking her head to a side, Elena watches for any flash of hesitation, confusion or any emotion at all. But there’s just an easy smile on the Salvatore’s lips. Of course she won’t notice if she’s surprised him; he’s a vampire. Why would she, a pitiful human, be able to see that. 

“Tomorrow?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve got plans tonight.” 

Said plan is sprawled across the sofa when she gets in, demolishing a bag of cheetos with an empty glass residing on the coffee table. Probably once full of hard liquor. 

“Hard day at the office?” Elena asks, dropping her bag by the door and making her way over to the Original. He stretches, much like a cat, long limbs reaching up over his head to curl over the sofa’s edge. Cheeto dust haloes his mouth, coats the tips of his fingers as surely as it lines the innards of the bag they once lived in. 

“Terrible. Finding a place to live is hard.” That he’d clearly not been expecting to stick around and thus hadn’t been prepared to purchase living accommodations, is probably another thing that makes this rather difficult. “Are you quite sure I can’t just compel my way-”

“I can’t say with certainty who is on vervain,” Elena states apologetically, throwing a leg over both of Kol’s to wedge it by the back of the sofa, stepping up and over him, only to sink down beside the stationary vampire in a half-sprawl, half-hug. 

He lays there for a moment before plucking one unruly strand of her hair from his face, darkly amused smile twisting his lips. “So much for being a seer, Darling.”

“It’s not foolproof,” she says with a shrug, shoulders rolling with the motion to jam the one nearest Kol up and under the flesh of his arm. She’s nowhere near strong enough to cause pain, but he does shift ever so slightly to give her a little more room. It’s enough for Elena to work with; she worms into the unoccupied space that little bit more, fishing her phone from her back pocket, teeth toying with her bottom lip. On one hand, she’d have less immediate problems if she lets the cat out the bag later (much, much later). But the apoplectic fit that her hybrid friend will no doubt descend into outweighs the short-term benefits.

‘_So, a Stefan Salvatore is in my class this year. That’s your old drinking buddy, right?_’

There, innocent enough, certainly nothing that could explode into several red flags should someone get hold of her phone. Elena relaxes back into Kol’s side, eyes fluttering shut as she determinedly ignores the fact that there’s homework lurking in wait, confined within the restrictive material of her dumped-by-the-door backpack.

The shrill ringing of Kol’s mobile shatters the peace between them quite effectively. Her companion takes one look at the caller and scowls, hanging up right away.

It starts ringing again a moment later. Elena can almost feel the building menace that is desperate to leak through the speaker.

“Great, just who I wanted to hear from,” Kol deadpans, sitting himself up and planting the phone on the coffee table before he accepts the call. Klaus’ voice fills the room a mere moment later; Kol must have put him on speaker.

“Tell me that my doppelgänger hasn’t spent near enough the full day in a ripper’s company, Kol.”

At that, Kol cocks a brow up at her, lips pursing together. Elena relaxes that little bit more into the sofa now that Kol’s sat his fine self up, giving her the monopoly of the couch-space.

“I have no idea, brother dear. Though this does sound far more entertaining than dealing with the housing sector.”

“Hey, how comes I texted you, but you ring Kol?”

“Not right now, Little Love. I’m a bit busy ensuring your safety.” There’s a pause here; in her mind’s eye, Elena can picture Klaus stalking back and forth wherever he is, coming up with a skeletal plan that he’ll flesh-out as he goes along. “This is serious, Kol. Should anything happen to Elena-”

“I know, I know, you’ll stick me back in the coffin, yes?” Kol snarls, surging to his feet in order to undertake his own form of caged-tiger-stalking. “I’d be gone long before you ever had a chance to get her.”

“And I’d hunt you to the ends of the earth-”

“Look,” Elena stresses, interjecting between the threats and promises because nothing has happened yet and, as long as the balance isn’t aggressively upset, nothing will, “Stefan’s fine right now. He’s on the vegetarian diet. But if it’s that important, then we can just swing ‘round the Salvatore boarding house and sort it all out right now, yeah?”

“If you think for even a second, I will allow you near a ripper who once impressed me with his manner of feeding, then you are in for quite the shock, Little Love. In fact, you are going to remain in your nice, well-protected house and not invite a single being inside while Kol goes and compels Stefan.”

The disgruntled look upon Kol’s face makes it crystal clear exactly what he thinks of that plan.

“That hardly seems fair.”

“I don’t do fair, Little Love. I’ll be there in twelve hours.”

The dial tone follows in the wake of that ominous statement.

Elena groans, pressing her forearm over the curve of her eyes to block out any form of light. She might have just fucked Stefan over completely. Additionally, Damon may bite off more than he can chew by trying to mess with Kol, should he be present when her Original friend makes his way to the boarding house. And she fully expects him to do so, if only to investigate how Klaus knows this vampire and if he truly is a ripper.

“Well, there goes any chance of peace for the next however many days.”

“That’s if the bastard even leaves,” Kol grunts, dropping back onto the sofa without a care that he might land on her legs. Elena removes them from the descending path of his rump, curling them up against her chest as she rises into a seating position.

“Even if he does leave, he’ll keep coming back. I’m his partner in crime and the supplier for his dirt blood-habit,” Elena muses with a smile, curling a lock of hair behind her ear, “and I’m okay with that. Being what I am, I’m safer around you two. No matter how wild my life’s gotten since I wrote that letter.”

They sit in silence for a moment, Elena’s toes poking against Kol’s thigh and Kol’s fingers wrapped tight around his phone.

Then, the moment passes and Kol’s on his feet, reaching for the jacket he long since threw over the sofa.

“Well, guess I best go investigate. Might make another pass at the witches too while I’m at it. Later, Trouble.”


	13. Part 1 - Chapter 2

_07.09.09_

The house is a bloody big thing. Not up to Nik’s extravagant standards, but it’d probably do for a quick pitstop. If there were no mansions available an’ all.

Rocking back on his heels, Kol inspects the architecture of the building, finding a strange comfort in the face of it all. The style sings of a time he’s left behind- no, of a time he was forcibly removed from. Damn Nik and his fucking daggers. He’s going to find them the second he’s got the local witches on his side and he’s going to ensure they’re destroyed. That or create a damn dagger that’ll work on the big ol’ bastard himself. See how he likes losing a century or two.

One hand shoved into the depths of a pocket, Kol takes a step forwards, hammering on the great wooden door. It rattles in its frame from the force but he’s unbothered by it. The building isn’t like the weak, corner-cutting structures he’s been shown these past few days. No, this is a real build, one done by expert craftsmen who were undoubtedly paid very well indeed for the time and labour that went into its creation.

The door opens and the steady heartbeat that echoes from the man’s ribcage informs Kol that he’s not the Salvatore he’s here to see. As if the age to his face would not have already given that away. This is not a man that could pass as a high school student.

“Er, can I help you?” His voice is calm, tainted with the confusion that comes only when dealing with unexpected, unfamiliar faces. A quick sniff of the air lets him know that, while the man is on vervain, he’s not taken a recent dose. There’s too little in his system to let him ignore Kol and the vampire smiles, pupils dilating.

“Is Stefan Salvatore inside?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Brilliant. Invite me in then, mate.”

The human does so, robotically, emotionlessly, a dazed sort of expression on his face that will no doubt soon clear.

Kol steps over the threshold, scanning the room, absorbing the mix of old and new, of relic and innovation. Ah, the ‘old’ houses are always the best, always full of so much history; he wonders if there are any grimoires here. Well, there is a vampire on premise so... perhaps?

His shoes gives that lovely click across the floorboards; one of the things he’s found himself missing from the twentieth century. Widespread central heating, however, is an invention well received.

“Oh ripper, where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are, mate!”

Stopping in the centre of the room, Kol plants both hands on his hips and waits for the other vampire to emerge, keeping a determined track of the human that’s only just managing to pull himself from the haze of vampiric compulsion. Given Elena’s warnings about wanna-be vampire hunters occupying the town, perhaps he should be a bit more careful. However, Kol’s been hunted by the greatest vampire hunter of them all. They’ll never be able to throw something at him that he hasn’t already experienced and they’ll certainly never come close to killing him. Without any daggers to hand, there’s no way they could stop him.

The potential ripper appears at the second floor landing at near enough the exact moment that the human comes back to himself. His heart rate rockets, a sharp gasp leaving his mouth and Kol tilts his head back to look at him.

“What? You’ve invited a vampire in already, mate, don’t be surprised when others turn up. Besides, I’m not here to cause trouble, just give a warning.” As he speaks, Kol keeps a sharp handle on his true-face. He hates it, hates letting people see the monster that replaced the magic, hates showing that ugly piece that was shoved in the hole of what was once torn away, never to return.

Letting a little bit of fang slip is acceptable though.

Turning to size up the other presence, Kol takes note of the youthful face, the strong jaw and the dark eyes and concludes this must be the Stefan Salvatore that Elena has been chatting to today. A ripper that impressed the big, bad hybrid. He doesn’t look like much right now though.

“How did you make Zach let you in?” Stefan (the former ripper? Can they even be ‘former’, can they beat back the impulse?) asks, steadily making his way down the staircase. Kol doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick all over him, sizing him up, weighing up the distance between the intruder in his home and the fragile human who answers the door. Ah, cute, it’s like he cares for his relative.

“The human might be on vervain, but it’ll take a stronger dose than that to ignore me.” Smirking, Kol makes for the living room, fingers dancing over the array of glass vintages. There’s a few that look appealing but, in the end, he settles on a tall, thin thing, carefully removing the stopper. It may be round, may be a near-clear surface only tainted with the vaguest hints of a yellow hue, but it’s enough for the flashbacks to a church murder, a house and a diamond.

He wonders whatever became of Mary-Alice and Astrid.

“Poor manners, you know, not even offering your guest a drink.” He drops down onto the couch, head thrown back as his throat works to down the liquor. One gulp, two gulp, three gulp. He pauses, taking an exaggerated breath to consider the two Salvatores who still stare, who are still unsure of how to proceed. The vampire has put himself between Kol and the human. How... loyal.

“Who are you?”

“The name’s Kol, you don’t need to know more than that right now.” Swirling the glass in his hand, Kol watches the amber liquid spill up the edges of the container, one continuous wave trapped in a never-ending spiral. “The important thing for you right now, mate, is to stay well away from Elena Gilbert.”

That, that clearly strikes a chord. Kol wouldn’t even have to look across the room to feel the defiance wash through the house, all originating from the baby vampire before him. Even the human seems to know exactly who he’s talking about, though if he’s aware of vampires, that probably means he had dealings with Elena’s father. So maybe not that much of a surprise then.

“Stay away from Elena,” Stefan repeats slowly, a fire in his eyes and oh, what is it about doppelgängers that attract attention oh so easily? Kol doesn’t understand; he’d never been taken in by the first and has only heard tales of the one that came after. The most recent, well, it’s her personality that appeals to him, not the face. That’s just a bonus whenever he looks to her.

“She’s trouble,” Kol says with a smile, “and that’s what makes her such good company. For me. For you, well, bringing your fangs near her is a sure-fire way to get your heart ripped out. She’s under the protection of the strongest vampire in the world.” No need to tell him that, technically, Nik isn’t actually a vampire, that he’s something greater. He’ll save that card to play later.

Kol flashes forwards, giving the Salvatore vampire no time to react, never-mind the human himself, and grabs Stefan by the collar. Eye contact, his pupils expanding and the rule leaves from between his lips like liquor flows, rich and inhibiting. 

“You will cause Elena Gilbert no intentional harm and you will never drink from her. Got it, mate?”

He repeats it, without thought and without feeling and that’s how Kol knows the message has sunk in.

Releasing the hold he has on the baby vampire’s shirt (relatively expensive but not brand-labelled as is apparently important to the richer half of society now), Kol steps back and takes another swig of the spirit in his hand, savouring the flavour that ensnares his tongue. It’s not blood but it’s a good substitute. For now.

“What did you just do.” It’s the human, voice all horrified and shaken, as if finally realising just how out of his depth he is right now. Sure, Kol supposes having a vampire relative to rely on can come in handy. But against an Original? Yeah, there’s no protection against them. Kol should know; he’s massacred thousands, after all.

As if to really hammer home just how startled, how ignorant he is to the world he’s neck deep in, Stefan Salvatore repeats his relative’s question. “What, what did you do?”

“I compelled you. There’s more supernatural out there than just you, mate. I suggest you get with the program, given you’ve already miss-stepped on the opening act. Now, tell me; are there any other local vamps that I’ve got to go instil a warning in?”

He leaves the Salvatore boarding house with a brief summary of the vampire named ‘Damon’ and a resolve to complete some of his own research. He’ll be damned if he calls Nik for aid; fuck that. He has some lovely new acquaintances down in Texas who already owe him a favour; he’ll set them to digging for information. Though this does give a whole new meaning to the ‘animal attacks’ that have been reported rather recently, if the Salvatore brothers really do haunt one another’s footsteps.

A quick text to Klaus confirming that one vampire has been dealt with and that he’s aware of the other later, and Kol finds himself standing outside the Bennett residence. He can’t feel the magic, not like he used to. Now it’s a vicious buzz against his skin instead of the welcoming warmth he remembers from his witching years. It’s a sensation he aches for, longs to feel once again, no matter how impossible. Running with witches has been the only time he has ever been able to achieve that high; studying their craft, admiring that which he could never achieving again. It hurts, strikes hard and true.

The door opens as the elder Bonnett, the trained one, stares at him with hard eyes. There’s nothing Kol could do to possibly piss her off any more than what she already appears to be with him. He’s rather quite sure of it.

With hands burrowed deep in his pockets, he saunters over, halting a respectable distance from the porch but close enough that Sheila can see the whites of his eyes. It’s only fair, he’s been able to see hers from his previous vantage point, after all.

“Madam Bennett-“

“Don’t you start,” she hisses, brow wrinkling with the force of her fury as she stalks forwards. Wind whips up around them, whirling and wailing as the witch approaches.

She stops a mere hairsbreadth away from him, a tight frown on her lips and a fantastic kind of anger in her eyes. The magic crackles, sizzles along his skin and Kol beats back his yearning once more. That chapter of his life is over and is not open for editing. No more magic. Not for him.

“You better take care of my Baby Girl, pulling her into this vampire-made mess, or you’ll see why Bennett witches are so feared, do you hear me?”

“Bonnie wishes to get involved then?” That’s the part Kol cares about; there’s nothing a witch could do to him that’d last forever, nothing they could do that Klaus wouldn’t see unravelled, if only to dagger him himself for allowing his guard to fall.

“I swear, Kol Mikaelson. If anything happens to that girl, you will know no peace for the rest of my days.”

A quick check of his phone a moment later and he finds a half-hour old message from Elena.

‘_Bonnie’s come over; don’t freak her out too much xx’_


	14. Part 1 - Chapter 3

_08.09.09_

“There you are.”

Damon registers the words just as his head is twisted to a side and the motion snaps his neck.

* * *

“What the hell was that.”

It’s the early hours of the morning now, two having passed by since they’d bee visited by the other vampire. If he even is a vampire. Stefan’s had more than a century of time on this earth now. He’s never heard of vampires who can compel others of their kind, ones who can overpower a set amount of vervain in order to compel humans. Is it something that comes with age? How old is the vampire that they encountered tonight? What worries him is just how Damon is going to react to this one. Or rather, how this ‘Kol’ will react to his older brother.

“I don’t know,” Stefan admits, picking up the glass bottle that their visitor had drained during his visit. There’s only a small amount left, droplets that brace the bottom of the bottle. The only physical evidence that there is another vampire that now roams around with an open invitation to their house where his venerable half-nephew lives.

“Does this mean the attacks might not be Damon after all?”

“No, those attacks are all Damon.” Though this does give him a possible culprit to the massacre of campers that’d occurred forty miles from Mystic Falls. They’d been drained, every last one of them. More importantly, not only does he still has no idea who this ‘Kol’ is, but he’s linked to Elena. He either cares about her enough to threaten him, or he’s working under the orders of this ‘strongest vampire’. Strength comes with age, but then that beggars the question of how Elena, a seventeen-year-old human, has managed to come into contact with the oldest vampire in the world. Unless there’s some element other than age that makes this vampire the strongest among their kind.

“Then what-”

“I don’t know, Zach, okay? …but, I do know someone who might be able to help.” Lexi. Lexi’s old, old enough to know the answers to this, isn’t she? Ignoring Zach’s demands that he be informed of exactly what Stefan is planning to do, he takes the stairs two at a time with vampiric speed, snatching up the phone from the bedside cabinet. A quick scroll through his contacts until he lands on Lexi’s name and then the dial tone is echoing through the small speakers. He paces back and forth as he waits, eyes cataloguing everything in his room. The books are all still untouched, his journals stacked neatly. The picture of Katherine still on the bedside cabinet, face down, as it has been for decades. With… with a girl that looks just like her walking around now, he should probably put it away somewhere it won’t be seen. Too strange to be caught by it. Even if Elena Gilbert seems to act like she’s already aware of vampires. She probably is if this ‘Kol’ is the company she keeps.

“Stefan? This is a bit out the blue.” The amusement in Lexi’s voice has Stefan smiling despite the circumstances.

“I need your help. Have you ever met a vampire that can compel other vampires?”

The silence on the other end of the line is telling.

“Lexi-”

“Tell me you haven’t upset this vampire, Stefan.” Lexi begs and there’s panic in her voice as she speaks. “Tell me you didn’t upset him.”

“I- No? I don’t think so. He gave me a warning, to stay away from somebody.” To stay away from Elena. No, not even that. He’d been told to keep his fangs away from her, then compelled to not harm her, to not ever drink from her. He’s struggling to even think about it, knows with complete certainty that he’d never be able to commit either act.

“Then listen to him,” Lexi stresses, wind whistling through the speaker. She’s clearly moving at high speeds, though why, Stefan can’t say. He’s not even too sure where she is and they’re not really at a point in the conversation where he can ask. Not when he’s getting answer. “Stefan, where are you? How have you managed to get tangled up with an Original?”

An Original? So perhaps he is right; original implies the first of something, so is that why he could be compelled by this ‘Kol’? It still doesn’t answer any of his questions though.

“I’m in Mystic Falls. Lexi, what is an Original? Why have I never heard of them?”

“They’re the first vampires, Stefan. If you want to avoid pissing anyone off, it’s them. I forget how you were turned sometimes,” she mumbles this part, though he picks it up loud and clear. “They’re infamous for not letting anything get in their way; which one is it? Klaus or Elijah?” Klaus. Elijah. Kol. He takes note of the names in his journal in shorthand; he’ll have to look them up, though a first name isn’t that much to go on. Yet, they’re not particularly common names either. Perhaps he’ll get lucky and find some folk law on them?

“Neither of them. This one called himself Kol.”

“Fuck!”

“Lexi?!”

“Look, Stefan. If you choose to ignore everything I’ve said today, let this be the one thing that sticks. Do not upset Kol. Half the massacres in the 1800s that New Orleans suffered are credited to him. Stay out of his way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He’s left with the dial tone chiming in his ear, head spinning with the sudden influx of facts. Massacres in New Orleans, two other names to investigate and a title. Originals. It would appear he’s got a long night ahead of him. But the very first thing he’d got to do is tell Zach not to touch the situation with a ten-foot pole. Not until he knows what he’s dealing with.

It doesn’t take much effort to find some website run by vampires, to find tales and stories of these ‘Originals’, though some comments make clear many find them a sceptical concept. Others… others speak of the horrors that have occurred from meeting them. Klaus is the name that pops up the most; there’s not one good comment. They’re all terrified of him; there’s a trail of death and destruction, of betrayal and blood left in his wake. Elijah’s the next one he finds, though this more centres around deals that can be made with ‘the Honourable One’. Many comments say he keeps his word, and those that betray him or fail simply… disappear.

There’s little to be found on this Kol. Certainly, the more he looks into the massacres of New Orleans, the clearer it becomes that a vampire was on the loose then. Some of the behaviour screams ‘ripper’ but then it just… stops.

Of all the comments he browses through, there’s only one that mentions Kol. Someone who’d witnessed a massacre when the other vampire had been travelling, who’d been left alive for the sake of it. The tentative comment that perhaps Kol is gone is tinged with hope. That’s all there is to find.

Sitting back in his chair and plucking up his journal, Stefan taps the tip of his pen against the polished oak of the desk. Hopefully, Lexi will have more answers when she arrives. He’ll just have to tread lightly at school tomorrow.

He doesn’t know how to interact with Elena the next day. She comes bouncing up to him in the morning, books cuddled to her chest and a wide smile on her face. He’s not sure if she’s even aware of the vampire who managed to compel him. She makes no comment on the supernatural, no mention of vampires, werewolves or witches. In fact, it seems like a relatively normal day, what with Caroline hitting on him, Elena’s friend Bonnie frowning at him (witch coming into her powers, of course she’ll be frowning at him), and Mr Tanner cementing his place as one of the worst teachers Stefan has seen. All normal. Until the end of the day.

They’re walking out into the parking lot, Elena with her books forcibly shoved into her bag, Stefan with his own tucked under his arm. He does stop when he notices the other vampire leaning against the bonnet of a car, arms folded and the same smirk on his face to the one another had worn the night before. Blond hair, older than Kol, a similar sense of style though.

The damning evidence of their association is the fact the same vampire who compelled him last night sits in the front seat, feet up on the dash. The older vampire notices this at the same as Stefan, a look of irritation crossing his face as he slams one closed fist on the roof. Kol the Original vampire flicks a scowl towards the other one, defiantly digging the heels of his boots further into the dashboard. There’s a moment as the unnamed vampire weighs up picking a fight with Kol or carrying on with whatever he’s here for at school. Though given Stefan is a vampire and the girl he walks beside is clearly involved with them, he can guess it’s something involving one of them. With the way his eyes, lightly coloured and half-lidded, light up as they land on Elena, it’s clear he’s made his choice.

“Well, seems you’ve got yourself caught up with some vampires, Little Love.” 

“Nik!” Stefan stares as his companion goes bouncing along the seventeen feet of distance between herself and the man leaning back against a car (an expensive car, he registers absentmindedly). The last step between them turns into a jump as Elena launches herself at him, much to the stranger’s surprise. He recovers quick (too quick, inhumanly quick) and catches her with easy, hands around her waist and his shoulders ensnared by Elena’s arms. He gets a mouthful of fluffy hair too as Elena buries her nose against his collarbone. 

“Hello, Little Love. That was an unusually enthusiastic greeting.”

“It’s been weeks and I’ve missed you.” ‘Nik’ blinks slowly, lips curling up into a lazy grin as his eyes turn smug. 

“Of course you have. Good company is undoubtedly hard to come by in small towns such as these. Though it would appear you’ve found the one person worth your time.” And this time he looks at Stefan with knowing eyes, tightening the hug that he uses to hold Elena to him, fingers spreading wide across the small of her back. “I do wish you would stay away from the bloodthirsty killers who have zero control. Puts you in danger and you know I don’t like that. “Elena steps back and out of his arms, head tilting up to stare at Nik.

“But aren’t you the worst one of the lot?” At that he does laugh, head thrown back and hands in his pockets.

“Now, not that I don’t appreciate putting on a show, but shouldn’t we take this elsewhere?” Kol has climbed out of the car now, arms folded to cradle his head between them, resting on the car roof for support. The look he gives Nik (raised brows, taunting half-smirk) makes it blatantly clear they’re not on good terms which makes this all the more suspicious.

“Is Stefan coming too?” Both Nik and Kol stare at him, eyes assessing. He doesn’t straighten, doesn’t change his posture in the slightest, well aware of all the other students that are doing their half-hearted best not to stare. They’re failing at disguising this; the staring is blatantly obvious. No, what Stefan is more worried about is the two old vampires in front of him. And they must be old; Kol is an Original and while he’s not heard of a ‘Nik’, the fact he seems unafraid to go against the other hints that he probably shouldn’t be messed with.

“Probably for the best,” Nik concludes, throwing one of his arms over Elena’s shoulders. She looks utterly at ease with the motion, tucking herself up against his side without hesitation. “I have a few things I would like to make explicitly clear. To avoid any accidents, shall we say. Who knows, maybe we’ll even get around to reminiscing Chicago. 1922, I think it was?”

“Are you quite sure this is the ripper that impressed you?” Kol chips in, pulling open the back door of the car and completing the motion with an exaggerated gesture. Elena extracts herself from Nik’s side, slipping into the back seat after offering Kol an over-the-top curtsy of thanks. “He doesn’t seem like much.” He’s in the car before Stefan can even begin to think of a response, still reeling from the name-drop of Chicago. That’s, that’s when the blackouts were at their worst.

That’s when he’s met this friend of an Original vampire?

“Better get going, Stefan. Don’t want us arriving home before you, do we now? Humans can be so very… resistant if they think they’ve got a fighting chance.”

A threat on Zach’s life he could have anticipated.

Finding Damon face down in the living room is another thing altogether.


	15. Part 1 - Chapter 4

_08.09.09_

Not-a-ripper Stefan is terrible dull. Klaus watches him panic behind those one-vicious eyes, flicking between the downed older brother and the spaced-out human. For what is perhaps the first time in his entire life, Kol has planned ahead. Compelling the human to remain off vervain during his previous visit, compelling the elder Salvatore brother to stay down until he heard his voice again, even checking through the liquor for the best of the lot. Well, probably the second best; undoubtedly the little bastard’ll have drunk the best one prior to his arrival.

Walking across the threshold after the human has invited him in, Klaus makes for the large red chair by the fire, pulling out his phone to quickly flick through his messages. There’s nothing of importance, just the usual hybrid minions informing him that all is proceeding as planned. It would appear they will be setting up a home here is in his best interests after all. The only downside to admitting that he’s had the house under construction for the past few weeks is that he’ll no longer be able to distract Kol with house-hunting. A shame.

“Get us a drink, Little Love?”

“Do I look like a bar-maid?” Elena quips back, dropping her bag by the door but, nonetheless, she still retrieves a tumbler full of liquor for him.

“Come on, Salvatore. It’s rude to sleep through guests.” Kol pokes at the body on the floor with the tip of his foot. He accepts the second tumbler that Elena offers him before she makes her way to the fire. Clearly intent on taking a seat in the second chair. Klaus catches hold of her wrist before she can pass by him, reeling her in until she’s sitting on the armrest, his arm around her back and fingertips brushing the denim of her jeans.

“Urgh, my head.”

Now, Klaus has heard tales of Damon Salvatore. Back when Stefan had been fun, back when he’d been exciting and interesting, he’d made mention of his less interesting brother. The non-ripper brother. Though he might play at being the evil one, he’s a candle in the wind to the Stefan that Klaus actually likes.

“What’s this one called again?”

“Damon Salvatore,” Elena states, planting her chin in her palm and smiling down at the vampire that’s slowly climbing to his feet. “He’s the older brother, the one that’s behind the attacks right now.”

Klaus snatches Elena up and leaps back. He needn’t do so; Kol has the elder one by the collar of his shirt a moment later, slamming him to the floor. Floorboards crack under the pressure, Stefan making a move to intercept but Klaus snarls out a warning.

“Get on your knees and don’t move until I tell you. Otherwise, I’ll reach down your throat and pull your heart out. Understand?” Klaus smiles as the compulsion takes hold, watches the elder Salvatore drop to his knees with Kol’s restraining hand on his shoulder. He’s no Elijah but at least he knows what needs to be done and when.

“Look-”

“Not now, Stefan. We’ve not even had a chance to introduce ourselves, have we? As is tradition, we’ll start with ladies first. The delightful Miss Elena Gilbert, doppelgänger and, well, I suppose you could acknowledge her as my supernatural ward. I protect her, to put it simply.” Elena offers a half-hearted bow in his arms, one of her small, cold hands coming up to rest on his wrist. Seeking reassurance. After two weeks together, interrupted only by Kol’s determination to make a menace of himself, he’s more than capable of reading her cues now. “Next we have my brother, the wily Kol Mikaelson. I’m sure you recall him from your previous encounter, Stefan. And Damon, don’t piss him off. It’s a miracle he’s listened to me this long.”

“Just taking notes, brother. It has been a while and I want to know where to strike when I deliver my vengeance.”

“Tch, noted.” Damon Salvatore looks between the two of them with shrewd, calculating eyes. It is probably a shock, returning to the hometown you’d though inhabited by only humans and a weak-on-animal-blood brother, only to find two Originals prowling about. Not that Klaus arrived in time to truly survey the land. It would have to do; he’s got a few loose ends to tie up, then he’d here to stay. Indefinitely.

Elena hums, tapping twice at his wrist. She turns big brown eyes on him, whispering that she will be going to get a drink from the kitchen, a non-alcoholic beverage. If there is any. All four of them watch her meander across the room towards the kitchen, plucking up a glass as she goes. In this great expanse of a house, she looks almost waif-like; he should probably check in on her eating habits, though if she’s anything like Katerina, then it’s just how she’s built. Given her face, it’s probably going to be the latter option.

Once his doppelgänger has disappeared into the kitchen, Klaus turns his attention back to the two Salvatores, completely ignoring the inconsequential human in the background. The elder’s eyes already burn with fury and hate; Stefan’s caution and distrusting. He shall have to see about giving him those memories back, seeing those eyes look right through him as if they hadn’t massacred many a human together is growing dull. Gesturing to himself, Klaus grins at the two, retaking his seat.

“I’m Niklaus Mikaelson; most in the supernatural world know me by Klaus. I’d recommend if you haven’t already done your digging, that now would be a good time to start, to find out why exactly you don’t want to cross me.”

Elena saunters back in, perching herself back on the edge of his chair and Klaus is quick to return his arm to its resting spot around he ribs as he continues.

“I am here to make a deal. No, wait, not even to make a deal. You see, Elena here is _my_ doppelgänger,” Klaus states, running his fingertips up the edges of her ribs until she jabs a finger into his shoulder, a frown on her face. Ticklish then. “It is imperative that she is not threatened. Vampires moving into the town she lives in constitutes as a threat, as far as I am concerned. Don’t you agree, Kol?”

A bead of alcohol dribbling from the corner of his mouth, Kol rolls his eyes as he turns to look at him, a hard frown to his lips. “Of course, brother. Who knows what kind of massacres vampires can come up with?”

“You’re something of a specialist on that subject then, aren’t you?” It’s the first spark of the old Stefan that Klaus has seen.

The former-ripper still stands halfway between the three of them and his elder brother, the human relation even further behind him. Not that the distance would stop Klaus if he really wishes to have a proper drink tonight. “I did a bit of reading around when you introduced yourself last night. New Orleans, was it? Early 1800s, though you’ll have to forgive me for not getting the exact date.”

“Ah, the one where they didn’t check the attic!” Kol brightens, a wide grin stretching across his face at the memory. Klaus almost smiles too, recalling the exasperation that Elijah had showcased back then, having to deal with them. Looking back upon it, he can say that his elder brother had the right of it; it was that exact kind of behaviour that had draw Mikael’s attention, much like the moon calls the wolves.

“Don’t worry about holding back the gory details on Elena’s behalf; she’s been running with us for a few months now, with Nik for nearly a year. Isn’t that right, Trouble?”

“I’ve come to recognise that, because of what I am, different people’s lives can be weighed against one another and found wanting. Take my own life for example; I’m relatively certain Klaus could weigh a few hundred against it and still find mine to be the one worth saving.”

“A few thousand I’d say, Little Love. There’s so many humans already while I have only one doppelgänger.” It’s the truth of it; life has a very different value to a vampire. Humans, humans are just food. Cattle to be considered as such. On the opposing hand, there’s Elena. As the doppelgänger, she’s more than human, more than cattle. She’s useful, non-expendable. Sure, life would go on if she did die. But he would have to wait years, probably centuries for the next doppelgänger. And he’s far from a patient man.

“Back to the topic at hand. Your presence disturbs the peace I had established in town, disregarding Kol’s existence, that is. The question is, should I make you leave? Now Stefan here I know, as close as brothers at one point, you could say. Not that you remember. I ensured that, don’t look too put out by it. No, my main concern is you, Damon Salvatore. Can I trust you to behave while visiting? Or are you going to have a problem here?”

Smile razor sharp, Klaus leans forwards, pulling one of Elena’s legs across his own, thumb rubbing at the curve of her ankle. She huffs, sprawling out across his shoulders, cheek pressing flat to the crown of his skull.

And Damon Salvatore smiles, all dry, pessimistic wit in the curve of those lips. “I’ll be on my best behaviour. Promise.” Lie.

Klaus is entertained enough to let it go. For now.

Clambering into his car, Klaus whips the engine into shape with the twist of a key, Kol clambering in the passenger seat a moment later.

“Well, that was terribly boring. I thought you said this Stefan was a ripper?”

“That was before I had to erase his memories to ensure he would not point Mikael in our direction.”

“Ah, I see. But now, with no Mikael, what prevents you from returning- Trouble. Just what are you doing?”

“Hum?” Elena’s smirking. He can see it in the rear-view mirror. Just like he can see her bare feet wiggling about on either side of Kol’s head, heels resting on his shoulders. Should they crash, the way her legs are aloft in the air and body slouched into the bottom of her chair with surely deal long-lasting damage. It is a good thing that Klaus has never once crashed a car unless he wished to do so.

“You know, there was a back-to-school party on tonight. I probably should have attended, what with being part of the school.”

“Speaking of being part of a school-” Kol tries to cut him off with a furious denial, face scrunching up with a fierce scowl. Certainly, this will only push his dear brother further into his revenge-based agenda. There are issues to sort out here, to talk through.

But that isn’t Klaus; he cannot, will not, talk through them. That had always been Elijah’s thing, Rebekah’s to an extent. None of them seem to understand that he has kept them daggered to protect them, to get them away from Mikael and his one-man mission to fix their mother’s mistake. But that no longer matters. The fourth coffin is spelled shut, Mikael is dealt with and the family home will soon be complete. Then they will be able to live together again. A family. Always and forever; just as it was supposed to be. With the doppelgänger by his side, his hybrid army and his siblings, there will be none so foolish as to challenge him.

He’ll allow Elena her time in school with a bodyguard of course, but she’ll soon grow tired of this small town. The wider world will call eventually and he’ll be there to direct her. The first thing he’ll do is take back New Orleans.

“As much as the idea of student Kol entertains me,” Elena begins, finally sitting correctly now that they’re pulling up outside of her house, “I’ve got bigger fish to fry. I had another prophetic dream last night and it’s genuinely freaking me out.”


	16. Part 1 - Chapter 5

_09.09.09_

She hadn’t been lying. Or, well, she had been lying, in the beginning. It’d seemed a sensible way to pass off her knowledge of the future, or certain events and all that other stuff she should have no feasible way of knowing other than claiming ‘prophetic dreams’. It’s not a tall tale anymore though, can’t be. Because she’s been having the same dream of the vampire girl that comes back to town to open the tomb, only different things are happening. Kol is there in them, Klaus in a few others.

She keeps dreaming of Elijah, of meeting him for the first time. It changes every night. A consequence of what she does during the daytime? Perhaps. What matters if that it shouldn’t be happening.

She dreamed of meeting Damon last night before it had happened, of watching him lunge for Klaus so that Kol had to restrain him. And now, now she’s expecting Elijah to rock up on her doorstep any day now. She, Klaus and Kol are expecting him any day now. The question is, do they roll out the welcome rug for him or not?

“Hey, Ellie, who is this?” Jeremy’s hesitant voice has Elena peering up at him through the steam of her coffee, watching her younger brother slide into the seat opposite her. While she may not be best impressed with the company he chooses to keep both in and out of school (and truly, can she make any comments on that given her own associates?), he’s not on drugs. That’s the important part. That’s what she’ll focus on for now.

“Jeremy, this is Klaus, Kol’s older brother. Klaus, my younger brother, Jeremy.” They’d never met, of course they hadn’t. While the big, bad hybrid is well aware of her biological cousin and his status as one of her important people, they’ve not been in the same room as one another, have only ever acknowledged the other exists through speaking to her.

Leaning against the counter and taking a swing from the flask in his hands (passed off as a medical concoction but she’s quite certain it’s the red stuff he’s down there), Klaus drags his eyes down her brother’s form, presenting her with a bowl of various fruits. Elena bets they’re all good for blood-production or something like that. From the smirk on his face, Klaus clearly knows what she’s thinking but he says nothing on the matter.

“A pleasure to meet you. Your aunt was kind enough to offer her spare-room while I wait for the final touches to be put on my own house.”

“Mansion,” Elena coughs under her breath, smirking as the original hybrid swats at the back of her head, one finger pointing to the array of fruits he’s prepared for her. With a mulish frown, Elena shoves a spoonful between her lips and obediently chews, offering a saccharine smile in response.

“Question; how long is the American school day for seniors?” Kol announces, stumbling into the kitchen with his shirt half-over his head, hands grasping the edges to pull the fabric down.

Elena watches the stretch of taunt, chiselled flesh disappear behind the cotton and she wonders. Is Kol trying to seduce her? Certainly, she rather suspects fucking around with his doppelgänger will enrage Klaus to no extent, but Elena’s hoping that she’s not just going to become collateral damage to the younger vampire in her current company. They’d bonded over that fortnight of traversing America, hadn’t they? Adventures conducted on foot, in a car or jeep, in the confines of a shopping cart or two; they’re friends, aren’t they? She likes to think so; these past few days have been pleasant enough and Kol appears to be as tactual a person as she.

She’ll just have to keep her guard up on the off chance Kol is planning something stupid pertaining her.

“The same amount of time that a junior’s school day is, Brother. I’m quite sure you’ll enjoy it all; I’ve heard high school is a cesspit of social vipers. You might even fit in.” Klaus bares his teeth in an all too threatening smile that Kol returns without hesitation. It’s never been more evident that they’re brothers than in their actions here.

“As fun as it is to watch the two of you go all alpha-male on one another-” Elena pauses, popping a cherry between her lips. “-I would like to get to school on time. Do you want a lift, Jer?”

While the thought of Kol Mikaelson unaccompanied in a senior classroom is enough to send a spike of worry down her spine, Elena cracks on her with day. There’s no Stefan (sick, according to their literature teacher) but she’s not too surprised about that.

Part of her aches to know how things have gone down after they left the boarding house yesterday; while Stefan has seen her before, she’s not too sure if Damon will have done. She’s hardly been in the same places as the original Elena, but she’s also not on vervain, so there’s every opportunity that she’s been compelled to forget an encounter.

She really does need to acquire some vervain jewellery. Perhaps she can beg some off Klaus in preparation for Elijah’s arrival? Or, worst come to worst, she can have a go at playing Kol off of Klaus, as safeguarding to make sure the other can’t compel her. Hey, she likes them both just fine but if that’s what it means to get some protection from things that go bump in the night, then oh well.

“So, let’s pretend I’ve had a nice little opening chat before I get right on to the interrogation Caroline has sent me here on,” Bonnie muses, sliding into the seat at the cafeteria table beside her, tray of questionable food landing on the plastic tabletop a moment later.

“Interrogation?”

“You got into a car with three hot guys yesterday. Vampires,” Bonnie whispers in a low voice, “but hot ones all the same. Just regular guys to everyone else. There’s a few people wondering how you know them.”

“Right, should have guessed this’d be making the rounds in the school grapevine eventually. Well, I know Klaus because he’s the artist who did that portrait in my living room.” The one her mum had commissioned for her seventeenth birthday, the one where she’s in a gorgeous dress with her shoulder-length hair in floaty waves. The one in which she’s serenely peaceful; Klaus did a masterful job of hiding her despair over her parent’s untimely death when he painted that one. Not that she’s surprised. He’s had centuries of practice, after all.

“He decided he’s going to move into town, with the rest of his immediate family following; Kol’s his younger brother, by the way. And Stefan, well he and Klaus were in Chicago at the same time. Round about the twenties, I think.”

Bonnie breathes out a harsh sigh, shaking her head and muttering a low, disbelieving ‘vampires’ as she picks up her utensils.

“You called, Darling?”

They both startle at Kol’s sudden appearance as he dumps his own tray of unappetising lunch on the table. He holds out a hand before Bonnie and, even though she knows it’s coming despite the fact they’ve met already, Elena’s not even surprised when he lifts her hand to his lips and plants a soft kiss at her knuckles. “Kol Mikaelson. Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Oh, get over yourself.” He laughs, sliding into the seat beside Elena, one elbow on the table and body angled so that the slight curve of their round table only aids him in looking between the two of them.

“Shall I ask why we’re gossiping about my family, or will I be able to offer a more natural reaction by remaining out of the loop?”

There’s a pause as Bonnie looks over at Kol, a fry held in a tight pinch-grip between her forefinger and thumb. It’s… awkward. On one hand, here’s Bonnie, her best friend since they were mere toddlers waddling about the world. On the other, there’s Kol, her vampire friend who she greatly enjoys the company of, but who may also be plotting to use her against Klaus in his grand revenge scheme. Awkward.

“Everyone wants to know how Elena knows you and your… brother.”

“Ah! Well, why don’t we put on a show?” Kol muses, fingers brushing the hair back from her neck, leaning in until his hot breath ghosts across the tender skin, directly over the throbbing vein that she can feel pulsating to the same frantic beating of her heart. “Make a spectacle of it.”

It’s electric and so very frightening at the same time. She’s running with vampires and there’s a high to that unlike anything else she’s experienced in her life. But it’s oh so very dangerous and it’s instances like this that she has to acknowledge that. The one and only time her blood has been drained from a bite to the neck instead of a donation-needle had been the day of the sacrifice. When Klaus had held her tight to his form, lips on her neck as goosebumps (be they from pleasure or fear) had erupted across her body. The night she died. It’s a harsh reminder, a slap in the face.

Elena plants one hand on Kol’s shoulder and pushes him back. He goes willingly, naughty smile on his lips and eyebrows set in what is becoming a familiar form of smugness. Bonnie looks worried. Probably with a good reason; she’s the only other person here who’ll take that for what is was; a hint towards Kol’s true nature, towards his drive for blood. Not the little neck-hickey every other teenager here would probably take it as.

“Don’t worry about my family, Little Witch. Even if they all do come to call Nik’s new place ‘home’, it won’t be for long. We make each other miserable; soon enough, they’ll clear out. We always do.”

“Now that just sounds sad. You ever considered counselling?”

“Nope.” Kol pops the ‘p’, shoving the cheeseburger into his mouth and pulling a face at the taste of it. There’s a reason Elena packs herself a lunch for school.

“Shame. How’re you dealing with the American education system?” It’s a change of topic that Elena throws out as a desperate attempt to get the self-loathing from Kol’s face. That he goes into a great spiral of how chemistrylinks so thoroughly to Kemiya that he could further progress the art and would Bonnie be interested in experimenting with him as soon as she’s halfway to trained with her magic?

* * *

Damon’s still not talking to him.

Stefan watches his brother pace back and forth in the living room, dried blood crusting the collar of his shirt, evidence of when he’d snuck out for a midday meal. There’ll probably be another ’animal attack’ on the news soon enough. Though he’s quite certain that it won’t be Elena who’s reported as the victim. Katherine’s copy, her exact replica. Her doppelgänger, if Klaus is to believed.

The thought of that is enough to give him a pause. He hadn’t considered that the other vampire could be an Original too. The vampire that all others seem to be scared of had stared them down last night. Had claimed to know him. It’s entirely possible; Stefan remembers little of his time in Chicago. But, how much of that is due to blood-blackouts, and how much is due to the interfere of an Original vampire? He cannot say for certain, one way or another.

“She’s not Katherine.” Damon, it seems, is still trying to convince himself that the girl who’d accompanied Klaus and Kol the previous night isn’t a trick. Well, perhaps she is a trick, but she’s not one devised by the Originals to be their undoing. If Stefan read the hints correctly last night, then he and Klaus had been on good terms when they’d known one another (an implication that terrify him, given what he now knows of the Original), while Kol appears as if he couldn’t care less for them, outside the threat they present. Elena is under their protection, that much is clear, and Stefan... Stefan wouldn’t be able to stand up to Damon right now, never-mind these two super-powered vampires.

“How the fuck did they compel me?!” Damon snarls, hurlings the tumbler in his hand to the fire. It lands with a crash, shattering on impact, the flames surging as they consume the alcohol within.

“They’re called the Originals. I don’t know for certain, but I think they were the first vampires.” The only ones who can confirm that are the vampires in question themselves. Stefan’s in no rush to go and confirm his theory. He can still recall how possessively Klaus had touched the girl, Elena. How he’d met both their gazes, challenge blatant in his eyes. It’d been obvious; mess with Elena, you messed with them. And you didn’t mess with Originals, not according to the research Stefan has done.

“And how would you know that, Saint Stefan? How the fuck can you not remember meeting that fucker? He’s not exactly the type you forget.”

Stefan would very much appreciate an answer to that question too.

“Well. I told him about the Originals yesterday. Hello, Stefan. I see we’re in a spot of trouble here.”


	17. Part 1 - Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2nd update of the day! Horrarr!
> 
> Oh look, there's a developing playlist for this fic now;  
[Listen to Absconding from Helen Playlist](https://play.soundsgood.co/playlist/absconding-from-helen)

_10.09.09_

“Quick question; how many comets have you seen pass through the night’s sky?”

“Far too many to count, why?”

Snatching up a dark jacket, Kol throws it over his shoulders, shoving his arms through the relevant holes before twisting to look at Elena. She’s all wrapped up in an unreasonably fluffy jumper, a thick scarf in a dirty cream around her neck and a knitted hat atop her head. There’s a picnic basket slotted under one of her arms, blanket folded over the top and food no doubt buried beneath its protective covering.

“No reason, just curious.” She smiles, one hand coming up to brush the hair back from her face, tucking the loose waves behind her ear. There’s the ghost of Tatia hanging over her shoulders for a moment but it doesn’t persist. He hadn’t been interested in her, not when she already had a child, not when both Nik and Elijah had loved her. He’d already had to compete with them for their mother’s attention, for Rebekah’s affections (and he’d always lost, always been the black sheep), he wasn’t about to add another one to the list. Just as quickly as the image comes, it’s gone, Elena peeling the lower lid of one eye down and sticking her tongue out at him.

Irritating how he smiles at that ridiculousness.

“Food, blanket, drinks; have we got everything? What am I forgetting?” Jenna whirls into the room, leather jacket over her own shoulders and blonde hair fanning out behind her as she goes. Kol watches Elena’s aunt rummage through the kitchen cupboards, emerging triumphantly with a bottle of bubbly. The packaging is a lot better nowadays compared to the last century.

“Photos, Jenna. You’re forgetting photos.”

“Of course!” She plants the alcohol down on the countertop, rummaging through her bag to pull a camera out. Another thing that’s changed for the better; smaller but the picture is so much better. And in colour too.

“Pose then.”

Elena laughs, dropping the picnic basket to the floor as she twists around, snatching up her arm as she goes. Kol allows it, lays it half across the short span of her shoulders, half falling down her back. Her arm is bent, fingers still caught around his wrist and he wiggles his forearm until they’re palm to palm instead, his cheek against the crown of her head.

“Whiskey!”

“Whiskey?” Kol repeats, amused despite himself. Elena grins, twisting to look at him and not at all startled by how close their faces suddenly are as a result.

“When you say ‘whiskey’, your lips end in a smile. Makes far more sense than saying ‘cheese’ does.”

“I like it, Darling.” There’s another clicking sound as Jenna takes another photo of them and Kol drags his eyes away from the doppelgänger to look at her. It’s blatantly obvious what assumptions she’s making. Especially because he’d already played the vast majority of the school the previous day, what with his hinting of blood-drinking to the Bennett witch. To the ignorant humans, it’d been nothing more than a hint that they’re in a relationship. To those in the know, it’s a threat and would be seen as such. How amusing that the vast majority of those in a town run by ‘vampire-hunters’ (ha!) are uninformed about the ways of the world.

Not that the idea of a ‘relationship’ with Elena hadn’t crossed his mind. That’s how he’d gotten Mary-Alice to work with him, after all. He’d had some affection for her, but nowhere near enough to stop his plans, to not discard her the moment it was convenient to do so. A shame what happened to her, she had been the prettiest of his witches. More of a shame he hadn’t had a chance to patch things up with her before she kicked it; getting back into his headquarters in New Orleans is still on his to-do list. There’ll be other Claires though. That he’s relatively sure of.

It all comes back to Nik, doesn’t it? Nik’s fault he’s lost decades, centuries to nothingness. Nik’s fault he can’t get in his headquarters, Nik’s fault all his plans fall through in one way or another. God, what he wouldn’t give for things to go as smoothly as they do for Nik right now. It all boils down to this pretty little doppelgänger though, doesn’t it? One who has ‘visions’ of the future. One more reason to win her alliance. But he needs to be careful; after all, if Nik catches on, he’ll be daggered up soon enough. Of course, his dear brother won’t risk the main ingredient in his hybrid soup. And Kol won’t be undaggered until the girl is long dead. Which brings up the question of continuing her bloodline. Surely Nik would have pushed for it already?

“If you two are done making googly-eyes at one another,” Jenna interrupts, a teasing smile on her face as she shoots a wink Elena’s way, “we should get going. Don’t want to miss the comet. Jeremy is meeting us down there. Is your brother coming, Kol?”

“He’ll probably show his face.” There’s no probably about it; Klaus’ll be there, if only to further cermet his warning towards the Salvatore brothers and ensure Elena’s safety. He doesn’t care for the significance that is the comet passing over, doesn’t understand how it will affect magic-users. But then again, Nik has always been uninterested by magic unless it’s beneficial to him.

Elena wraps her arm around his with a grin, making for the door. “Come on, let’s go. You can tell me everything the comet could be used for.” Yes, he rather supposes he could do that; at least he’ll be talking about something he likes. And who knows, maybe educating Elena on the different types of magic will help him come up with a plant o deal with Nik’s hovering form.

There are tiny electric lights strung up all around the park, climbing up trees or wrapped around the fencing. He’s not quite sure what the significance of the candle is, but he takes it anyway. Jenna takes the picnic basket to set it up, waving them with the excuse of going to find their ‘friends’. Which, Kol supposes he could count the youngest Bennett witch as a ‘friend’ by modern day standards in that they talk to each other at school, but that’s the only one he could get away with. Perhaps it’s more directed towards Elena, so he sticks by her as they meander through the maze of blankets and people.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Bonnie. And Caroline,” Elena tags the second name on with a note of surprise in her voice, blinking rapidly before she continues, “it’s nice to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Elena. I know we haven’t spoken in a while, what with life being so hectic and all, but I was hoping we could maybe get back into the swing of things again?” She’s only half genuine.

Kol watches the blonde girl’s eyes scan over Elena’s face, though they make a quick detour to him. He makes sure to smile, the same bright, smug thing that Rebekah always whined about him using on whatever measly human ‘acquaintances’ she compelled to fill that void of friendship. She’d never cared past the first week or so anyway; he genuinely has no idea why she’d bothered at all.

“I miss you, Caroline,” Elena murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, looking away. Nervous; an unusual reaction for the girl who happily jumped into a car for a cross-country road trip with two vampires during the summer break. There’s something else happening here, that much is clear. “I’d love to catch up with you.”

“We can have a sleepover at mine tomorrow!” The lovely Bennett witch declares, eyes alight with happiness and yes, Kol has had quite enough of this.

“Come along, Darling. I’m sure I just spotted Nik in the crowd.” He determinedly manoeuvres Elena away from the duo a second after she affirms the fact she’ll be at the sleepover tomorrow, weaving them through the crowd as if he has a specific purpose in mind.

“You haven’t spotted Klaus at all, have you?” Elena guesses, a sly little smirk on her face as she looks to him and Kol mirrors that expression.

“If I had, we’d be going in the other direction,” he admits, tugging on the edge of her scarf before flicking it up and over her shoulder. He spins the candle in his hand, the flame flaring as it completes the circle, before touching it to Elena’s unlit one. The fire jumps across to the new wick, burning low in the windless air. Kol watches the flames for a moment, recalling a time when they used to jump between his fingers at his command. That ache, that longing for his magic hits again, clawing at his innards, demanding he recognise that loss once again. The reminder hurts.

“Best duck down here then,” Elena suddenly whispers, reeling him to a side so that they’re pressed against the bark of a tree. It takes a moment, but then he registers Nik’s voice (exasperated beneath its polite tone) and he realises exactly why they’ve ‘ducked down’ behind a tree.

“I’m afraid I only paint when I have the sufficient inspiration, Mrs Lockwood. Given the renovations, I find my motivation lacking.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose that can be a drain on an artist’s motivation. How long until renovations are complete?”

“I expect it will be no more than a day or two. Then, I have plans to welcome the rest of my family into town, should they decide to come.”

They begin to walk away, Klaus trying to shake the woman and her probing questions as they go; she must be on vervain, otherwise he’d have been rid of her by now.

“Upside of not being an adult; you don’t get cornered for conversation by other adults.”

“Amen to that,” Kol mutters, spying an olden-style popcorn machine. He makes his way over, inspecting the familiar device. There’d been ones like this back in the nineteen-hundreds, usually sitting outside carnivals and festivals. Digging into his pockets for spare change, he scurries up enough for a bag, grabbing a handful and shoving the lot into his mouth. It’s smothered in butter, tastes nothing like the kind he can recall sampling back before he was last daggered. Elena snatches up a handful of her own and he allows it, watches her shove a little too much into her mouth. Her cheeks bulge under the pressure, lumpy and reddening under the exertion.

“Bitten off more than you can chew there, Trouble?”

She swallows, though it appears to be a struggle, gasping for breath the moment her lips part. After she composes herself, Elena counters, “I did the moment I started hanging out with Klaus. You’re just gonna finish me off. That’s all.”

“I can finish you anytime you want, Darling.” He gets an elbow to the ribs for that one, jostling the popcorn but he doesn’t spill it. Supernatural reflexes and all that.

“Don’t be crude.” Kol shoots her a smile, leading the two of them back to Jenna’s blanket. The woman herself is gone, probably off chatting to other members of the town. It seems that’s all the people over twenty are capable of within Mystic Falls. Ah, it has come a long way from that unnamed little village, hasn’t it? He wonders if the caves are still here, if the carvings Rebekah and make remain. Of course, there’ll only be three names up there, just like there’d only been three present for the promise of always and forever. It’s a miracle he’s the one undaggered right now instead of Rebekah.

Elena drops down on the blanket and Kol follows after, laying himself down and nestling his head in her lap. It’s forward, certainly it’d have gotten him thrown off with a scream a hundred years ago. Now though, Elena just laughs, running one hand through his hair as the other goes for more popcorn. Like this, he has a perfect view of the comet that’s passing overhead, illuminating the night’s sky with it’s glorious light. No doubt all the witches who can see this will acknowledge its presence, perhaps by recalling what their ancestors had used it for, perhaps using it themselves for something.

“You know, this comet lit up the sky when I was practicing magic,” Kol muses, watching the rock slowly sail across the night’s sky. He’d been young, older than ten, but not by much. It’d been seven years before they were turned; mother and Ayana had drawn on its strength to fortify the caves they escaped to on the full moon. He’d sat on the thick branch of an old oak, had watched them perform the spell. Of course, his father hadn’t known what he was up to; he’d gotten a beating for it afterwards but it’d been worth it. Witnessing that level of magic, feeling it sing and sizzle across the expanse of his skin. It’s a shame that he’s still working his way into the good graces of the Bennett’s here, a shame they are not yet well-versed in Kemiya. This is the kind of power that could have been drawn on to create the dagger. “I wasn’t well versed enough to draw on its energy at the time. Now I have to watch it go every time it returns and know I will never get the chance to draw on it again.” Not as he is now.

“Well, I can’t judge on the longing for magic, seeing as I don’t have any myself. Unless these wack visions count,” Elena murmurs, plucking the packet of popcorn he’s no longer bothering with right out of his hands. She takes a handful (smaller this time than the last) and eats it, chewing in the silence between them. “But if you’re ever gonna be happy, you’ve got to focus on what you have and what you can do about your situation, I should think. It’s how I get by, anyway.”

“And what did you do about your situation, Darling?”

“I got you, didn’t I?” Elena declares, grinning down at him, teeth white in the candlelight. “I got on Klaus’ good side and I certainly plan to stay there, given the protection it offers. I got a good friend in mischief and mayhem because of it. Next thing on my list is some vervain jewellery, preferably for myself, Jenna and Jeremy. Maybe Caroline as well.”

“The air-head blonde from earlier?” Former friends if he’s guessing correctly.

“If I’m not careful, she’s going to end up a vampire. And while she’s a better person for it-”

“She doesn’t deserve it,” Kol finishes, staring up at the sky again, watching the comet slowly begin to fade as it distances itself. This is not a topic he wishes to dwell on, however. Sitting himself up, Kol throws an arm over Elena’s shoulders, ignoring her cry of dismay as the popcorn is knocked right out of her hands, littering her legs and the blanket. “Come on, Darling. I’m bored and I could use a little entertainment.” There must be something to do here, something that can abate the boredom of Klaus’ instructions (watch the doppelgänger, don’t cut a bloody swath through the townspeople).

“We could go move all the road signs, so that the out-of-towners get terribly lost?”

“Done, let’s go.”

They abandon the festivities, sneaking out. He’s got Elena slung over his back so they can move at a reasonable pace, escaping from under Nik’s nose. He doesn’t doubt the bastard’ll have noticed they’ve left, but if he’ll be in a position to follow without blowing his cover as the new resident who happens to be an artist as well is another thing altogether.

Of course, it wouldn’t be right if he didn’t get caught by an older brother while neck-deep in mischief (even if it’s not his usual brand); he’s got two directional road-signs slung over one shoulder and Elena hanging off the other one when he’s identified.

He just wasn’t expecting it be Elijah who catches them.


	18. Part 1 - Chapter 7

_10.09.09_

Elijah stares. He can’t quite help himself, for here is Kol, living and breathing and clearly up to some form of mayhem. Not daggered, not buried at the bottom of the ocean, not forever removed from him. He’s here. And he’s not alone.

There’s a girl by his side, staring just as obviously as Kol is and clearly his partner in mischief and marauding. She’s not got road signs slung over her shoulder so she must be human. How she is human, living and breathing with that face when Niklaus is in the vicinity, Elijah cannot even begin to guess. He’d come here assuming that Niklaus had indeed found a miraculously human doppelgänger; there could be no other explanation for the existence of the hybrids that’re sending ripples across their world. Finding the girl who wears Tatia’s face walking about is indeed a surprise.

“Brother!” Kol drops his stolen property to the road with a clank, the girl stumbling slightly as he spreads his arms wide, taking a step towards the frozen Elijah. His face then wars between fury (ah, yes, he has helped Nik dagger their dear brother a few times, hasn’t he?) and excitement. The latter wins out.

“Elijah!” Kol scoops up the girl as he bellows, dashing over at a surprisingly humane pace. The girl who wears a face so aching familiar laughs, arms thrown over his shoulders, legs hooked at his waist like the movement is the most natural thing in the world. They’re close. Because she is compelled or because she is familiar with his younger brother, Elijah cannot say for sure.

Part of him wishes to reach out, to embrace Kol after a century of separation (after decades of assuming him gone, out of reach forever). Another part of him wishes to punch the younger vampire in the nose for not coming to find him the second he was free. But how could Kol have known Elijah and Niklaus were on the outs? How could he know they were on opposing sides when he has remained in the confines of a box that Elijah himself helped put him in?

Kol comes to a halt three feet before him, still smiling with one arm wrapped around the human’s waist. Her hair is shorter than the two that came before her, dusting at the tops of her shoulders. But the face is all the same; same doe brown eyes, same soft curves for the eyebrows, same nose and same lips. The same exquisite beauty.

“Kol. It is good to see you. Dare I ask where Niklaus is right now?”

“With any luck, still entangled with the mayor’s wife. And not in the fun way, either.”

The girl swats at Kol’s arm once he’s done speaking, rolling her eyes as she clambers down, smoothing down the excess fluff of her jumper. Then, she turns her full attention on him, smiling brighter, lighter, than anything he can recall Katerina showing.

“Hi. I’m Elena Gilbert, doppelgänger, former blood sacrifice and friends with two Originals. Care to bring that total up to three?” Elena Gilbert extends her hand towards him, palm up and fingers spread wide. Elijah takes a gentle hold, flips the limb, and then pressing a kiss to the tips of her knuckles.

“Elijah Mikaelson. Charmed. I do believe we will have a fair amount to speak of.” It appears he’s missing some information. A lot of information. Especially if she’s a ‘former blood sacrifice’. So, the ritual has been completed, the curse broken, and yet, the doppelgänger still lives? Kol is out, undaggered and trusted enough to roam the streets in the dark of night, accompanied by the doppelgänger and… two road signs?

Kol notices how his eyes zone in on his abandoned burden. The grin he offers is in no way reassuring.

“Oh, face facts, brother. This is by far one of the lesser crimes you’ve caught me committing.” That, in the least, is very true. From the valiant attempt at a straight face, Miss Gilbert is well aware of this too.

“Well, no point in leaving a job unfinished. I’ll be a moment, Elijah. Come show me where we’re planting these, Darling.” Kol snatches up his discarded, ill-gotten goods with vampiric speed, turning to address the doppelgänger by the end of his sentence. Elena Gilbert offers him one last smile before she bounces over to join his brother, snatching up his unoccupied arm once again as they meander down the street.

Elijah watches them go, one hand resting in the pocket of his trousers, the other coming up to rest his forefinger against the crest of his lips. Kol is undaggered, relatively calm and has clearly been in the presence of the doppelgänger long enough for them to comfortably allow skinship to occur between the two of them. Elena Gilbert, doppelgänger and clear acquaintance of both Kol and Niklaus, still draws breath and is aware enough of what an Original is to identify him as one, but seems comfortable in their presence nonetheless.

Yes, more information is needed before he draws any conclusion other than the fact Niklaus is a talented, sadistic liar. One he will punch in the face, as soon as he finds him.

Elijah trails after the duo of sign-post thieves as they wander down the street. Kol slams one sign on the corner of an intersection; the hole he plants it in suspiciously shaped to indicate a different sign had once rested there. Another few streets away, he repeats this action with the last one, twisting it back and forth until it’s in perfect position.

From there, it’s only a short walk to the kind of house that Elijah wouldn’t be surprised to find out Klaus is inhabiting. Even if there are clear renovations occurring. And waiting at the door is the man of the hour himself. Elijah offers him a smile and Niklaus offers him the same one back; sharp and cold. At least they’re on the same page.

“Brother! Look who I found roaming the streets! We’re two daggers short of a family reunion!” Kol strides forwards and Elijah doesn’t miss how he holds Elena close to him. A shield to be raised if needs be. From the acidic flavour that Niklaus’ expression takes, he has noticed it too.

“Elijah, brother, do come in. Not that you need an invitation, of course.” Of course not, he need not be invited into this house of Niklaus’. There are, after all, no living inhabitants.

“Thank you, brother, I do believe we have much to discuss.”

“And I think that indicates it’s my bedtime,” the doppelgänger muses, shoving her hands into her pockets, chin nestling down in the scarf that coils around her neck and is lazily draped across her collarbones.

“I’ll take you home, Darling. I’m sure any issues my brothers come up with can be discussed with me later. There’s nothing pressing on my part, I do believe.” Kol smiles, that same smug, smarmy look that has always grated at Elijah’s nerves. He never thought he’d be grateful to see it but, here the emotion is. It’s almost funny how that happens, how things come around and flip things on their head.

Before Niklaus can say anything against it, Kol has snatched up the doppelgänger and disappeared into the dark of the night. Elijah gives a single moment before he begins his climb up the stairs, gaze on Niklaus the entire time. His brother smiles again, stepping back and into the reception room, already decked out in the usual extravagance that their family surrounds themselves with.

“Now Elijah-”

He punches him. It’s a satisfying thing, how knuckles meet cheekbone and, had it been another vampire, it would have rather effectively removed the entire head. As it is his absolute bastard of a brother, however, the only outcome is Niklaus being flung back into the closed interior door. He crashes through the wood with a satisfying oomph. The reverberating growl that echoes out of the room and across the air towards him could be rather worrying, as are the amber irises.

“Easy, Elijah, I’ve just finished renovating.” The warning snarl is the only caution he receives before his brother moves. Elijah sees him coming, could get out of the way, but he accepts it. Let’s Klaus put him on the floor with a tackle that’s a fair bit harder than it needs to be.

He lays there, stares up at his now motionless brother, allows his head to tilt to a side slightly and the cool mask to roll back across his features.

He hadn’t missed the quick glimpse of a coffin in the room Niklaus had just exploded out of.

“What now, Niklaus? Will you dagger me, just as you have done our siblings until you believe I will willingly accept the measures you have taken in regards to our family?”

There’s Kol, the only one other than him out and about, though that cannot have been true for very long. His youngest brother is a lot of things, but subtle is not one of them. Rebekah and Finn, both absent for the moment but not out of reach. In the very next room, if he were to hazard a guess. But now, standing in this house with all his siblings so close, nothing can stop him from freeing them.

“Mikael is dead.”

Except for that.

* * *

“A warning would have been nice, Little Love.”

Having just pulled back the covers to clamber into bed, Elena pauses, twisting to look at her unexpected visitor. Klaus leans against the alcove in her wall, arms folded across his chest and an almost tired cast to his features. Elena sits down on her bed instead of climbing in. 

Klaus is still wearing the same grey henley shirt and dark jeans she’d spotted him in during the comet festivities, but the collar is now dusted with a sprinkling of broken glass and a few wood chippings. 

“In my last vision, I met him in the morning.” He’d turned up on her doorstep, Kol in tow and looking terribly irritated. Clearly, they’d caught him before he found Klaus, what with their not-drunken shenanigans. “Sorry.”

Klaus huffs a laugh, coming away from his little hidey hole in her room to come and join her on the bed. The mattress creaks under his weight, muffled by the thick throw she has covering the surface. Elena watches Klaus run a hand across his brow, the other twitching, as if he should be holding something but isn’t.

“So, how many doors did Elijah put you through then?”

“Two, if you count the one where he physically threw me out of my own home.” The imagery that comes with is amusing enough; Elena hides her smile behind a hand, glancing away because surely the amusement will be visible in her eyes.

“My question, Little Love, is what had you so spooked the other day.” What with ensuring the Salvatore boys don’t get up to any mischief I don’t approve of, I didn’t get the time to ask you earlier.” Ah, that.

Chewing on her lip, Elena shuffles a little closer to the hybrid, laying her head against his shoulder after a moment of consideration. Klaus is tense under the weight but he doesn’t push her off, doesn’t demand she cease and desist.

“I’m just struggling a little bit.”

“Struggling? How so?” Klaus actually sounds interested in the answer. Elena doesn’t move, keeps her head against Klaus’ shoulder, even as he wraps an arm around her back. It’s strange to consider how very different things are now. The first time he’d held her, it’d been to drain the blood from her veins. Then, it’d been to escape the scene of the crime that was the burning of Wickery Bridge. Held by necessity. It hadn’t been until they spent that fortnight together, her, Klaus and Kol on the road together, that the physical barriers had really been broken down. She has absolutely no problem getting touchy-feely with Kol, no problem greeting Klaus with a hug or sitting close enough that he can possessively wrap his arm around her when there are other vampires about.

But this? A comfort hug? Yeah, this is new.

Let it never be said that Elena Gilbert misses such rare opportunities. She all but sinks into his side, exhaling long and slow, mind racing in an attempt to put all her issues into words. There’s a few, but the one she wants to talk about-

“I- Just, I’m coming to terms with what it means to be me, to be a doppelgänger, and to be associated with you. People are going to die, have died because of my decisions. But I don’t feel bad about it. Not like I should. Because I’m alive and the people I care about are alive and I guess I’m just having a moral and ethics breakdown over the fact I don’t care as much as I probably should do.”

“It’s society that tells you that you should care, Little Love.”

She can hear the rumble of his voice in his chest, feel the heat that’s just oozes off him. Man, she could just go to sleep right now. Who knew the big, bad hybrid would be so darn comfortable? No wonder Rebekah’s so attached to him. She can almost picture them as little kids, Rebekah sneaking into his bed as the thunder shatters overhead, or the wolves perform their moon melody.

“You’ll find that, if pushed to make the choice, the majority of the world would choose their lives and the lives of those they love over that of strangers. You’ve been opened up to the concept of morals that have become widespread as a result of the Roman and British Empire, expected to hold yourself to that standard and you’re not selfish enough to completely ignore them.”

“And you are selfish enough, then?” she asks quietly, forcibly blinking her eyes open wide from their drooping state.

“I have my priorities, Little Love. Those who live under the constant threat of danger, or those who have lived long enough can prioritise. Just like you did when you chose to contact me in order to keep those I might use against you out of my way. Katerina chose to place her survival above the lives of her family, Elijah places his morals on a pedestal but will burn it at the first hint of a threat to family; everybody draws a line in the sand at some point.”

Katerina… That’s another matter of consideration for her. It’d be incredibly hypocritical of her to dislike her for murder and manipulations when those are Klaus’ middle names. So far, she’s not done anything against her, other than proceed to set her up to substitute as the sacrifice. Which, given that Elena’s not one of her loved ones (and even then, it’s questionable if she’d be weighed against her survival and found enough), it’s understandable from her point of view.

As the intended sacrificial lamb, however, Elena’s none too happy.

“My priorities are Jenna, Jeremy and Bonnie. Maybe Caroline too. Then it’s you and Kol.” They’re her friends. They’re also her best bet at keeping the other three/four people she truly cares for safe. They’re important for what they could give her, but they’re also important because they are who they are.

“I’m flattered, Little Love. Your wellbeing is one of my priorities too.”

“As your personal blood-bag, I should hope so,” Elena sniffs, hiding a yawn in the curve of Klaus’ shoulder. “Now I need you to get going. Some of us have school in the morning.” Peeling herself from Klaus’ side, Elena tucks her legs into the bed, digging her way into the thick fabrics until her head is nestled pleasantly on the fluffy pillow.

“Would you like tucking in, Little Love.”

“Yes, please.”

She didn’t actually think he would do it. Elena lays still as Klaus takes hold of the covers, smoothing the edges down. As if he’s looking for ways to waste more time.

“Sweet dreams, Little Love. Try to make them something useful.” And then he’s gone. Out the window or down the stairs, she can’t say for sure. All Elena can do is snuggle down into her duvet that little bit more, eyes sliding shut.

She does dream, but she highly doubts the vision of Jenna’s bitchy ex becoming a vampire will be of any help to Klaus.


	19. Part 1 - Chapter 8

_24.09.09_

“Awe, you shouldn’t have!” Elena eagerly holds her hand out and Klaus smirks, sliding the vervain infused jewellery onto her right ring-finger. As over the top of as ever, she draws her hand back, twisting it this way and that, humming and hawing at the sight of it. Ridiculous, overly dramatic being that she is.

“You know, there is such a thing as the age of consent in the modern era,” Elijah muses from where he sits in his armchair, newspaper up and covering the majority of his face. Klaus doesn’t need to look to know he’s smirking. Bastard. “Are you sure it is quite wise, Niklaus, to take the lovely Elena to this party and not allow say, Kol to accompany her?”

“Yes, brother, why not allow me to attend? I’ll be on my best behaviour of course. I’ll even limit myself to only one little drink.” They’re a right pair, aren’t they?

Klaus smiles back at the both of them but it’s dry and full of promised fury if they keep up this little teasing session they’ve got going on.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned with integrating Rebekah into modern society, Elijah, instead of concerning yourself over nosey housewives and their unnecessary opinions?”

It’s been two weeks since his oh so delightful older brother had moved into the now finished house. Even now, they’re still finding easy ground between the three of them, attempting to bury old hatchets and keep certain skeletons shoved in closest that they others cannot access. Kol and Elijah both have their secrets, Klaus doesn’t doubt that. But, given how many of his own he’s keeping, he has no desire to go digging. Not yet. However, the two of them (because Kol’s opinion doesn’t count when it comes to weighing up potential damage) have decided it is perhaps time to undagger Rebekah. Klaus is even going to play nice by returning Stefan’s memories to him later tonight.

They’re leaving Finn for the moment. He’s relatively certain when they pop the lid off that coffin, it’s going to end with another stabbing. Probably him. Not that it’ll have a lasting effect, not that it’ll cause anything other than momentary pain; Klaus can deal with that when the time comes. It’s a win that he’s managed to stop Elijah undaggering them both at the same time. He’s only got one set of eyes and he can’t keep track of both. Though Stefan will undoubtedly offer himself up as a good distraction for his dear little sister.

Is the younger Salvatore brother going to be his sacrificial lamb? Maybe so. Hardly the worst thing he’s done in the past decade.

“I’m pretty sure that Caroline is taking Damon Salvatore and, physically, there’s a greater age difference there. I think.” Elena hums to herself, brushing down the sparkling fabric of her dress, fingers smoothing over the twisting shades of pink and orange. It’s a pretty dress, all soft summer shades that dip into autumn, the kind he’d use on a palette if he were feeling particularly whimsical. “So, if heads are gonna turn, it’ll be at that, I should think.”

“Damon Salvatore hasn’t so blatantly flaunted his extraordinary wealth as Niklaus has.”

“That’s quite enough, Elijah. I assume you will be attending the ball with us? It is, after all, rather fitting to your aesthetic.” What is all the suits, the play at gentlemanly manners, the suave charm of ballroom dancing. It has been a while since he has bothered to attend one of these himself. New Orleans would probably be the last time. While Chicago had been fun, it’d been more about flapper dances, no waltzing involved.

“Someone has to hold down the fort, Nik. Who knows what kind of thieves and creatures of the night will try snooping around while you’re out. There are after all, no living inhabitants in this house,” Kol drawls, reappearing at the top of the stairs. To Klaus’ vast irritation, he’s dressed in a suit of his own, black bow tie at his neck and smug grin on his face. “I’m coming instead, accompanying the lovely Bonnie Bennett.”

“Disregarding Kol’s worrying but unsurprising habit of running with witches, are we any closer to finding out why the Salvatores are still in town, despite my numerous warning?” Klaus says it to the room at large, but his focus is on Elena. By the way her lips thin slightly, eyes glancing towards the door, it’s obvious that she knows exactly why the Salvatores are still in town. But she’s not sharing. Which either means she’s protecting them (doubtful), or the answer is something that will somehow send him into a rage. She must feel the weight of his eyes upon her; Elena shuffles closer to him and loops her arm through his, offering a small smile. “Talk about it on the way there?”

He’s half-right. The facts do fan the flames in his stomach, but not as much as they would have done if Katerina were actually trapped in the tomb. He’d heard of her ‘death’ a few months after it’d happened. Near a decade later and he’s getting reports of Katerina sauntering around. She might believe herself careful and subtle, but her inability to stop herself from upsetting other people if it’s even remotely advantageous to others had sold her out. Still, he’d been curious enough to sit back and see what type of plan she’s coming up with.

A hundred years later, and he’s still waiting. Worse, he’d grown bored. She’d been particularly lucky that her descendant had decided to crash into his life at the point he was seriously considering taking the hunt back up. Admittedly, he’d had other things on his mind at the time, what with New Orleans, Kol making a menace of himself, then Chicago. His father had captured most of his attention from then on.

Regardless, none of those are pressing problems anymore (or even problems at all). He can now devote a fair deal of his attentions to tracking down Katerina. The tomb vampires may very well help with this. If anything, he’ll have another lot of compelled minions to do his dirty work.

“Ah! Niklaus! And Elena, you look lovely.” Carol Lockwood, the mayor’s wife he’d been unable to politely escape the night of the comet spots them as soon as they come through the door, leaving her husband’s side. In preparation for this day, Klaus had compelled the young son into offering him an invitation the three nights prior. Though the humans of this town may know of vampires, they aren’t even aware they can walk under the heat of the sun. They don’t have a clue what they’re actually up against in regards to him.

At least the elder Salvatore has had the decency to cover up his string of attacks with a planted mountain lion. Not that it’ll have fooled this so called council of vampire hunters, but it’s the thought that counts, he supposes.

“Mrs Lockwood! It’s nice to see you; you look well.”

“You say that as if it’s a surprise, Little Love,” Klaus stage whispers, watching the woman’s eyes flutter in obvious pleasure at the compliment. So easily manipulated. But, he has a vested interest in this family. Not the mother, no. It’s the father and son that have caught his eye. Difficult-to-control anger and aggressive personalities? Check. Record of mauling incidents in the town history that doesn’t match up with a vampire’s modus operandi? Check. Potential werewolf family ripe for transformation and then transition into hybrid? Check.

Smirking, Klaus offers the mayor’s wife his goodbyes before she can drag him into yet another long-winded conversation about history or trying to feel out his knowledge of the supernatural world. Instead, he tucks Elena’s arm a little closer to his side and begins to make his way over to the numerous displays. As a council of self-appointed vampire hunters, there’ll probably be a few artefacts he’ll be interested in, maybe even some witch-spelled objects.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s darkening the mayor’s doorstep.”

“Now, how did you get in without an invitation?” Klaus drawls back, twisting to get a better look at Damon Salvatore. Oh, it’s almost cute how the baby vampire thinks he has even the slightest chance of going toe to toe with him. He’s, what? A sixth of Klaus’ age? Nevermind the fact he’s a regular old vampire, not an original.

“Founding families, my friend. We’re all bosom buddies with one another, don’t you know? And, speaking of which, how would your dear old ancestors feel about your date, Elena?”

“Probably terrified. Both paternal and maternal. Pretty sure one of them has been running from Klaus for half a millennium.” That bullies a laugh out of his chest, given the truth of it. Yes, Elena’s vampire hunting ancestors may be furious with her current company, may even fear for their dear descendant’s life, even if she is quite possibly the most protected human on the planet right now. But Katerina? Oh, Katerina has been running scared for centuries, has faked her death and fucked over so many people just to keep one step ahead of him.

He’s in no rush to catch up; they’re going in circles, after all. Eventually, she’ll double back and run into him through her own plots and plans. Given his curse is broken and he has the doppelgänger on his arm, nothing can save dear Katerina from her fate now.

“Yes, I’ve had the pleasure of your ancestor’s acquaintance. Katerina would unquestionably be fleeing in terror if she were aware of my presence. Would probably throw you at me in hopes of aiding her escape,” he muses, running his fingers down the curve of Elena’s shoulder, all the way to the ring he placed on her finger hours ago.

“Excuse me, please, Mr Salvatore. I have an aunt I need to rescue,” Elena suddenly pipes up, determinedly crossing the room towards a throng of people in the hallway. Klaus watches her go, just to check that she’s not heading into any danger. Kol and the Bennett witch appear a moment later and he knows it’s safe to leave her be and focus on the elder Salvatore. Stefan’s irritating relative. Ah, he does miss the ripper. Another thing he’ll have to prod at once this night is over.

“What are you really here for? You don’t need to play dress up and act the gentleman for Elena. It’s obvious she’ll follow your lead.” Ah, is that a hint of bitterness he’s detecting there? How incredibly amusing.

Klaus has an inkling of suspicion forming in the back of his head, a hint as to why both Stefan and Damon look at Elena as if she is a ghost. The same way he and Elijah once looked at Katerina before the certainty of her existence and what it means asserted itself in their minds.

“It’s Petrova women,” Klaus confines after a moment of consideration, inspecting the objects that are on loan from the Gilbert family. There’s a gap in the display, where something should be but isn’t. Either Elena or her younger brother didn’t wish to offer something up for the locals to gawk at then. What could that possibly be? “For over a thousand years, their bloodline has been tied to me.” Tatia. Katerina. Elena. His doppelgängers, his curse to break, his blood to use and drink however he so wishes. The baby Salvatore wouldn’t understand, has probably never even heard of the fake Sun and the Moon curse that he and Elijah oh so cleverly constructed. “You could even say we are each other’s destiny.” It’s true enough. Because of Elena, he has been able to achieve his true potential, to unlock his other half and create the new, superior supernatural being. And Elena, well, his mother had set her destiny a thousand years ago when she used Tatia to bind him.

“Wouldn’t really have taken you as the type to believe in destiny.”

“Oh, mate. I’m the Original Hybrid. I can’t be killed. If that isn’t destiny at work, then what is?”

“Hybrid?” And that one repeated word shows just how out of the loop the elder Salvatore is.

Planting one hand on Damon’s shoulder, Klaus leans in, smirk curving the corner of his lips. “I suggest you do your research, mate. Just so you get a bit of an idea of what you’re up against if you choose to make some… bad decisions?” Klaus smiles and its full of fangs, lets the wolf gleam in his eyes as he steps back.

The supernatural façade fades before anyone else can notice. Just in time, as Elena reappears, one hand linked with her aunt, the other wrapped around the arm of her younger brother. Given the mulish expression, he’ll assume she’s dragged him away from something that’s easily disapproved of. He’s well familiar with that face, given Kol’s… everything.

“Jenna. Jeremy. A pleasure to see you. I hope you don’t mind if I steal Elena away from you.” He doesn’t give them a chance to respond, expertly stealing Elena out from between the two of them.

They’re on the dancefloor, or the small mockery of one that the Lockwood house boasts. The one within his own house is far more impressive, closer to the actual size of a true ballroom anyway. Plus, he has authentic European wine to boot. Elena steps close as they twist, though her eyes scan the ballroom. Looking for someone, or for a certain group?

“May I at least have the privilege to know what it is that keeps your focus from my delightful self, Little Love?”

“The Founding Council are onto the fact that vampires are back into town, though they have no idea who they are. They’re looking for a device my ancestor made that stuns the supernatural. Luckily enough, I know exactly where it is.”

Klaus laughs, a low thing that he makes sure to keep under his breath, least people start assuming things. “And what happens when you start misinterpreting these visions of yours?”

“Then I rely on my hybrid-friend to save my ass.” The music rises, the pace increasing and Klaus spins them again. Kol’s on the dancefloor with the Bennett witch, admiring about her abilities in lighting a room full of candles. Well, her confidence does need a little boosting if she’s going to be anywhere near useful.

Then, Elena gives him the reason Damon Salvatore is haunting the town. And things get a little more interesting again.


	20. Part 1 - Chapter 9

_28.09.09_

“Elena. Could I request a moment of your time?”

Flinching back because sudden vampire is always a bit of a surprise, Elena drops her books by the door to the Mikaelson manor, absent-mindedly acknowledging Kol’s swift exit to go… be himself with a simple hand-wave. He smirks at the action, blowing her a kiss as he retreats. Elena makes sure to catch it, warmed by the laugh he gives at the action.

“Sure, Elijah. I’ve always got time for one of my three favourite vampires.” She had been planning to get her monthly donation to the Klaus blood-drive out the way, but it can sit for a bit. Her hybrid-overlord hadn’t been aware that she was stopping by, so it’s not like it’d been an appointment or anything. The homework can sit for a bit, but there’s another pressing matter that she does need to attend to within the next half an hour. “Do you mind if we have this talk out though? Jenna’s on a date and I don’t trust the guy. Probably because he cheated on her when they were together and now, as far as I’m concerned, he’s not worthy to kiss her feet.” That’s her aunt Jenna who’d fled her hometown because of some douchebag guy. No way on earth is she leaving this asshole unattended with her aunt when the alcohol is flowing.

“Are you attempting to acquire a free dinner from my desire to speak to you, Miss Gilbert?”

“Ooh! Don’t let Klaus hear that teasing tone, he might think you’re as normal as the rest of us!” Bouncing forwards, Elena stops a foot away from the eldest original in her acquaintance, not quite sure if she can reach out and loop her arm between his and Elijah’s ribs. With Klaus, she wouldn’t have hesitated. With Kol, she wouldn’t have even thought about it. But she doesn’t know Elijah as well as the other two. Doesn’t know Rebekah at all, what with Klaus caving to her whines and taking her on a shopping trip in the nearest big city. Not that Elena has any evidence that Rebekah was whining, only Klaus’ text, explaining why he won’t be around for a bit.

It’s not like she needs him; after so long, she can practically complete a blood donation herself. Though Klaus always keeps the ever-agreeable hybrid Mark in the mansion, just in case she’s feeling charitable.

Thankfully, Elijah saves her from the internal conundrum, offering up his arm in that old-worldly way; bent at the elbow and fingers curled into a loose fist. Elena places her hand over his, allows him to tuck her arm against his side and they make for the door.

The Grill is, as always, half full with people of all kinds, though the bar is surrounded by their two local drunks and a handful of students she knows to be underaged but are getting served anyway. Elijah is quick to acquire a table, not that this comes as a surprise. He’s in a suit, his hair styled just so and he has an aura about him that just screams ‘pay attention to me, I am important’. Besides, with a face like that, Elena would be hustling him to a table too if she were working on the floor.

Sliding into a seat, Elena scans the room for a blonde aunt or dark-haired sleaze while Elijah peruses the menu. She can’t see either one, but that doesn’t mean they’re not here. For all she knows, Scumfell could have pulled her aunt to one of the booths at the back.

“I’m just gonna go make a circuit of the place. Just ask them for Elena’s usual; they know me well enough now.” She used to come here once a fortnight with her parents and Jeremy; it’d been a tradition since she turned ten. And every time she’s eaten the same thing; chickenburger and fries, a coke with no ice or lime, followed by a jelly and ice-cream chaser for dessert. She’s not one for habits, but this is the one thing she’s kept steady with and Elena’ll be damned if that’ll change.

Her quick loop around unearths no nasty Fell or lovely aunt, so Elena slides back into her seat, taking hold of her coke glass and drawing a quick sip from the straw. Across from her, Elijah places his liquor back on the table, relaxing back into his seat with the manners of a patron at the Ritz, as opposed to the local watering hole.

“Alrighty then, Mister Original, how can I help you?” Drawing another mouthful of water up from the red and white straw, Elena meets Elijah’s gaze, smiling at him. Then, she blows down hard into the straw to watch the coke abruptly bubble. It doesn’t startle a laugh out of Elijah as it did the first time she’d done it with Kol, but she does get an amused smile, so she’ll take that as a win.

There’s an awful lot they’re going to have to deal with in the future and she would most certainly like to have as many originals on side as possible. Which means winning them over with her magnetic charisma and awe-inspiring charisma.

“I must confess, Elena, that I am lacking in information.”

“Oh? How so? What’s the topic? Not sure how much help I’ll be as a lowly human doppelgänger, but if it’s teenaged slang you want, I’ve got the gist of most of it.”

He smiles at her, picking up his fork and twirling it between his fingers. It’s an incredible display of dexterity and skill, though it probably wouldn’t be half as impressive to another vampire. The sudden stop is jarring, especially as the pronged ends point to her.

“You have visions of potential futures, that much I have managed to deduce. However, that is not all there is to it, is there? Niklaus is blinded by the potential your blood holds for his plans of hybrid domination and Kol is, as always, wrapped up in his own plans and plots that will no doubt inspire bedlam and pandemonium in the masses, should he accomplish them. I, however, have had both the downtime and the motive to do a little digging. So, would you care to share, or will it be a riveting guessing game for all of a week?”

There’s silence between them now, enough that Elena hears the door open and watches the Scumfell saunter in. No aunt in sight though. God, Elena hopes Jenna’s listened to her warning about crawling back to exes but, given her lack of romantic history as far as her aunt is aware, she doubts her words will be heeded.

“A week? I think you’re overestimating me there, Mr Noble Stag. I’m more than happy to share with you, it’s just a bit… weird, is all. Weirder than visions, that is.”

Because how did one explain dying then awakening in a body not your own? In the body of a baby, wailing and crying and completely unable to defend one’s self? How to explain growing up and being just a little off from all the other children, about failing to connect with most of her peer-mates when there’s that impending sense of doom crushing down on her shoulders? How to explain a whack dream at the age of fourteen told you everything that would happen to you if you didn’t get production and do something about it?

“Eh, I remember the life I had before this one.” Best to be right to the point, she guesses.

Elijah’s eyebrows shoot up, lips parting in slight surprise and that’s when the waitress decides to make her appearance, sliding Elena’s usual chickenburger meal before her. Elijah’s follows afterwards, a surprisingly simple steak that she would guess to be more on the rare side than anything else. She’s not surprised by the mashed potatoes and roast vegetables; it’s a traditional kind of meal, after all.

“Enjoy!”

“Thanks, Sarah, I’m sure we will!” Elena chirps back, dipping her head in gratitude before she turns her attention to her dinner. Scooping up the burger in both hands, she takes a bite, bigger than restaurant snobs would probably recommend but she’s starving.

“You recall your past life,” Elijah finally begins, picking up his steak knife with delicate fingers, slicing through the meat with ease. The clatter of their cutlery is the only sound for a moment as Elena chews, wondering how best to explain it all.

“Yeah, I lived, died, then I was living again in the body of a baby. I am much cuter this time around.” She smiles, one hand under her chin and head tilting to a side, as if to emphasise this. She’s seen the photos, has spent many a minute studying Klaus’ painting of her. She might share a face with another woman who currently walks the earth, but thank god it’s a pretty one. Having given Elijah long enough to take in the beauty of her face, Elena drops the overly cute pose and returns to her food, snatching up the ketchup and upending the bottle in a desperate attempt to get the remains of sauce out from the bottom. Bad table to pick if she’s going to have to ask for renewed condiments.

“May I?”

“Oh! Yes, please!” Elena hands over the bottle, watching as Elijah’s fingers wrap around the entirety of it. He jerks the bottle in a downwards motion, quicker than a human should be capable of. At the sudden stop, ketchup comes out with ease to land perfectly in the corner of her plate. There’s not even any spillage. How cool!

“You can treat me to dinner every week,” Elena declares, swiping a fry through the sauce, popping it between her lips and grinning at the original.

“I’d much prefer to continue our current line of questioning, Elena. Your visions, did you experience them in this previous life you can recall.” Wow, straight to the point.

“Nah. Previous life was a normal one. No vampires, werewolves or anything. Just school, university, job, then death. I was _English_,” Elena tags the last bit on, digging deep to draw out that old English accent buried away in her brain. It tugs the corners of Elijah’s lips up into a smile, dark eyes boring into hers. It’s intense and Elena has to look away, pulse jumping in her neck.

Thankfully, she spots Jenna entering through the door at this point. Damn her aunt for turning up but also, go aunt Jenna for not bothering to dress up for Scumfell. Not that she doesn’t look hella attractive as she is, but it just proves she doesn’t think the ex is worth the effort. Which is completely right as far as Elena’s concerned. If he’s cheated on her once, chased her out of town, then it’s probably going to end with Jenna getting hurt again. Unless Elena can talk her out of it before the ball gets rolling.

Turning back to Elijah, Elena plucks up her glass and downs a few mouthfuls of coke.

“One could assume that these visions you are experiencing are a result of your current bloodline then. To my knowledge, Katerina never exhibited the skill, certainly if she had, it would have been used to her advantage. Which can only lead to the assumption that this ability comes from another line in your family history.”

“Huh. I never really considered where they could come from, only that they were happening. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“In addition to the one you just voiced?” Elijah’s voice is warm with humour, like rich hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. Elena smiles back but doesn’t acknowledge his smart-ass comment.

“Do you think it’d be a good idea to tell Jenna about the vampires? Because I’ve had visions of the Scumfell- er, the man she’s meeting tonight,” Elena adds in, coughing softly as she looks away from Elijah’s questioning gaze, “becoming a vampire. And I really don’t want him having access to my house if she doesn’t know not to invite him in.”

Elena listens as her current company explains how this would be a viable option, alongside offering to compel Jenna into not inviting a single being into their house, to just avoid it. But, something nasty squirms in her guts at the thought of it. Jenna’s a human, an adult who can make her own choices. They just need to be informed choices.

They eat dessert and covertly watch Jenna and the Scumfell. It’s painfully obvious that he wants something extra than Jenna’s undivided attention, not that her aunt is giving it to him. It’s the Gilbert watch he’s after, if she recalls correctly. If it’s important, then it’ll come to her. She hopes. If the Salvatores don’t already have plans for it; hadn’t they been around when it was used the last time? When she’d broached the idea of the getting them duo on board, Elijah had only shrugged, stating that Rebekah would soon have it hand and to expect her at school tomorrow. Rebekah and Kol in close proximity… yeah, that could be interesting. From the smirk he sends her way, Elijah obviously thinks the exact same thing.

“Elena? What are you doing here?”

“Damn, caught in the act.” Elena ducks her head down, rubbing at the back of her neck in as charmingly sheepish a manner as she can manage. Elijah’s busy hiding his amusement behind his third glass, looking for all the world like he’s been drinking nothing but apple juice instead of the heavy liquor. If she’d drunk that much, Elena’s pretty sure she’d be on the floor by now. “Hi aunt Jenna, having a nice time?”

“You’re here to spy, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Elena admits, utterly unashamed by the admission, gesturing to Elijah. “I even brought a gentleman to intervene if needs be.” Jenna laughs at that, hopefully warm and touched and not irritated by her darling niece’s interference.

“Well, I’m almost glad you’re here. Lend me a ride home?”


	21. Part 1 - Chapter 10

_._

_29.09.09_

_._

“Good morning, Little Love.”

Elena doesn’t shriek upon finding two unexpected guests in her room, just stares with wide, startled eyes.

Klaus isn’t alone, though the two intruders in her room aren’t standing together. In fact, the girl (Rebekah, she thinks) seems to dismiss her completely, too absorbed in browsing her closet. Elena’s under no misconceptions; she’s rather certain the female Original is well aware she’s awake and alert. What this doesn’t answer, however, is how on earth the female original managed to get into her house. Elena very clearly doesn’t recall inviting her in, hasn’t even met her yet. Which means it has to have been either Jenna or Jeremy. And that there’s every chance they were compelled into it.

“Either there’s something so important you couldn’t wait, or you just wanted to catch a peak of me changing,” Elena muses, drawing the covers up to her chin with one hand as the other gropes about on the floor to find her missing shirt. She cannot be judged for this, not with how many men sleep in just shorts. Or butt naked. If she were braver, perhaps she’d be taking the latter option instead of the former. Her fingers close around the thin fabric, drawing it up but she’s stopped before her hand can retract under the covers. Her wrist entrapped in Klaus’ grip, Elena flicks her gaze up to meet his eyes, doing her best to ignore the other original that’s routing through her clothes.

She can’t ignore the theft of her favourite top though.

“Please don’t take that one. I like that one.”

“Mmm, it’s trashy anyway.” Rebekah drops it in disgust, continuing on as if she hasn’t just torn out Elena’s heart and soul with that comment.

Close enough to his sister, Klaus snatches the shirt up before it can hit the ground, his lips twisting into a smile when he notes the design on the front. Yeah, the ‘suck it up’ with vampire fangs graphic had been saved from the Halloween bargain bin. But it had been so deliciously ironic for her in particular to own that Elena hadn’t been able to deny herself.

“So, dear Elijah let me in on an interesting titbit of information when we got back. Any reason why you never thought to share that with me?”

“Not exactly something that’s easy to bring up in conversation,” Elena muses, blowing a stray strand of hair back from her face. Klaus is still knelt by her bed, though he holds out the vampire shirt to her with a smirk. Looks like her wardrobe for the day has already been decided.

“This is more like it.”

“Rebekah,” Klaus groans, twisting to get a better look at his sister as she holds one of Elena’s prettier dresses to her torso, humming in agreement as she turns this way and that before the mirror. “I have already outfitted you for this decade. Do not steal from Elena’s closet.”

“No, please steal. Especially if he has to replace it,” Elena cuts in, hastily pulling her pyjama top up on while the hybrid is otherwise distracted. From the high rise of her brows, Elena can assume Rebekah’s surprised to see her sleeping without a shirt on. No judgement though. That’s cool. The smile that warms her lips is promising too. Especially because her little cute, flutter the eyelashes act probably won’t work on her. Not unless Elena’s really lucky.

“We will be talking about this.”

“Of course, right after school. Which, you as an adult, don’t attend. So, out.”

Klaus bows theatrically over her pointing hand, pressing his lips to the tip of his finger. Elena hisses as a canine slices along the pad, a quick suck drawing forth a few beads of blood.

“Have a good day at school, Little Love.”

* * *

“Hello, Trouble. Please do explain what is happening here.”

Kol doesn’t need an explanation. He’s got eyes and he can read. He knows exactly what’s happening here. But he wants to hear how Elena will put the event before them into words. Especially because the newly undaggered Rebekah is watching on in ill-concealed fascination. And not the ‘this is wonderful’ fascination. More, disturbed horror. It’s quite the hilarious expression.

“What’s there to explain? It’s a sexy suds car wash,” Elena muses, hiking her bookbag higher up her back. He notices she’s not in one of these modern-day swimsuits, belly covered as well as her shoulders are with an aptly chosen tee-shirt, given the company she keeps. Half her hair is scraped back into a high ponytail, the underside fanning out around her neck. Different to Rebekah’s all down style, even if both shield their necks. Not that his sister needs to do so, and not that hair would help defend Elena is a passing vampire decided to take an interest. No, that’s where he comes in, isn’t it?

“Such a shame I had no idea an event like this was happening. Otherwise, I’d have participated!”

The choking noise from Elena’s blonde friend twists a smile from his lips, though it’s easy to pretend he hasn’t heard her coming up behind the three of them. Elena and Rebekah both turns, the latter just as uninterested with the entirety of modern American schooling as Kol himself is. It’s underfunded, understaffed, and just underwhelming in general. These near-topless young women are the most entertaining thing that has happened so far. And his sister still knows how to have fun; her gaze keeps wandering back and forth between some of the young men taking part. Same ol’ strumpet sister; nice to see some time in the box hasn’t changed her.

“It’s not too late to join in,” Caroline hastily states, her eyes scanning his form, probably undressing him with her eyes. And, well, if she wasn’t Elena’s tentative friend, maybe he’d go for it. As things are, doing that would definitely strike him from potential lovers for Elena. It’s not a route he’s sure of yet, not sure if it will piss Nik off enough to risk the easy friendship he has with the doppelgänger (the doppelgänger whose blood can be used to empower any spell). But he’d rather keep that card to hand, just in case.

It’s not like Elena’s friends with everyone in town, after all.

“Well, Darling, what do you say? Shall we?”

“Pass. Even if there are some boys with their shirts off, I don’t want to spend my day using sex appeal to lure suckers in for a shitty student car wash. Do they even know to check sponges for gravel before attacking paintwork with them?” Elena scans the array of students, pausing on the only vampire taking part. Now, how is it that Stefan Salvatore is out and about, but they’ve not yet heard anything of the elder brother? Come to think of it, things have been rather quiet on that front. They wouldn’t be plotting something terribly stupid, would they? And, hang on. A slower heartbeat and that flash of recognition in those brown eyes? It would seem that Stefan Salvatore’s company is in the know and most probably a vampire too.

“Caroline, Darling. Rebekah’s still new to high-school; our eldest brother spent a fair bit of time teaching her when we were all at home. I don’t suppose you could explain what you’re up to and why?”

“Kol-”

Rebekah doesn’t get through her threat before the ever eager to please Caroline is chirping a quick “sure!” and flipping through the clipboard she holds. Just like that, Kol is free to throw his arm across Elena’s shoulders and hustle them across the car park to the Salvatore boy and his friend.

“What are you doing?” Elena twins her whispered question with a gentle jab to his side, the tips of her fingers pressing into the soft flesh that bridges between ribs and hip.

“Fishing for answers, Trouble. Get your bait out. Stefan! How you doing, mate?” He raises his voice once he’s done responding to Elena, a friendly smile on his lips. The female reads the tension in his body, the hint of threat, standing tall with square shoulders in response. Awe, how cute. She’s protective of the former ripper.

“Kol. Elena. You both look well.”

“Hello, Stefan. You look good too.” Elena coughs as soon as she’s said it, glancing away from the shirtless vampire with a pink tinge to her cheeks, lips pushed together in a solid looking pout. Now why hadn’t he garnered that reaction from her when he’d pulled his shirt on before, back when he’d been crashing at her house? He’s certainly more impressive than Stefan Salvatore. Taller too.

“My god. You do look exactly like her.” It’s the other vampire, the woman, staring at Elena with traces of obvious distaste. My, my, my, another one that Nik’s second doppelgänger has pissed off? It’s becoming quite the extensive list, that’s for sure. It’s impressive in a way, especially given that there’s two originals on that list. The girl’s gotta be given credit for her survival skills at the very least.

“Yeah, I might share a face, but I’m not her. I have my own name and everything. It’s Elena by the way. And this is Kol. We’re in cahoots.” There’s that delightful phrase again. An alliance or partnership, if he recalls the google search correctly (and what a marvellous thing that is).

“We’ve just come over to enquire after the current state of your family affairs, Stefan. I’ve seen your human wandering around, but the older brother seems to be slipping my notice. Not surprising though; I’ve met a lot of people and he didn’t particularly stand out.” Other than the way he’d look at Nik’s off-limits doppelgänger for the first time, that is. As if his heart has been torn from his chest and all his wildest dreams had come true at once, mixed together and add a little disbelief to season.

“Oh, Damon? Yeah, he left town a few days ago. Not long after Lexi stopped by, actually.” Lie. But Kol’s interested enough to do some of his own digging now. It’s no fun if you just compel it out of people all the time.

“Good news indeed then. Wouldn’t want him making any poor choices would we, mate?” Smiling, Kol slides his palm down the curve of Elena’s shoulder, slipping off her arm just at the elbow in order to place his hand on her waist.

“Oi, treat a girl to dinner first.”

“Such a tease, Darling. But I can do dinner.” He whisks them away from the vampire duo, scanning the crowd for a flash of dark hair and pale blue eyes. But there’s no sign of Damon Salvatore.

Kol still doesn’t believe he’s left town, not even for a second.

The moon is low on the horizon, half-hidden behind trees when he feels the thrill of validation runs through him. The radio the drug-addicts had been listening to cuts out, the elder Salvatore tears a chunk out of one of the girl’s necks and then moves onto the next one. Kol watches, arms folded across his chest and leaning against a tree, as half-desiccated vampire rips through the little party of drunken teenagers. Far be it his place to stop it. It’s not one of Nik’s orders that he has to stop massacres like this, just that Kol doesn’t conduct one himself in the centre of town. Make a spectacle of himself. Drawn the wanna be vampire hunters’ attention. Not like this won’t. But hey, it can’t possibly be pinned on him. Kol’s never set his victims on fire, after all. He leaves them to be discovered, to be found and marvelled at in that horrified fascination humans have for when they see others of their species dead.

For a moment, he toys with the idea of drawing attention to himself, of taunting the Salvatore, bringing up his dear brother’s words. Of asking how his trip out of town was (ha, what a terrible lie; the ripper needs work on that).

After a bit of thought, he decides to leave it. It’ll be funnier watching Stefan run around trying to fix whatever this is. As long as Elena’s healthy then Nik wont’ flip and if Nik doesn’t flip, Kol doesn’t end up back in a box. No box means there’s still time for him to make a dagger of his own, so that he’ll finally have some leverage.

Besides, with any luck, this’ll spice up small town life.


	22. Part 1 - Chapter 11

_._

_30.10.19_

_._

The mayor has proven himself infinitely more helpful than his nosy bugger of a wife. 

Draining the last of the bloodbag (not his preferred meal but a needed must when he has a trip to pack for), Klaus throws the empty plastic carcass into the bin, slamming the lid of his luggage shut. Just a few shirts, jeans and the other necessities. And while he’s loathed to leave the town without his doppelgänger, he’s got two siblings who can be trusted to look out for her simply because she’s managed to weasel their way into their affections. The final sibling... well, Rebekah owes him for restoring Stefan’s memories. 

No, he needs to get out of town, to make his way down to Florida and hunt down this ‘Mason Lockwood’, the mayor’s younger brother who has a track record of anger issues and has recently been involved in an ‘accidental’ death. As if that wasn’t damning enough, then the fact his elder brother has been complaining about him ‘running with druggies through a forest’ when he should be back in town, being a responsible member of a founder’s family had cinched it. The mayor truly has no idea what is happening beneath the surface of his own family; it’s quite delicious to watch it all, actually. 

Now, while he would otherwise compel the mayor and his son to ‘accidentally’ murder a person or two (it may not even have to be accidental, given that they’re going out of their way to cover up the vampire attacks, hiding a little murder wouldn’t be that big a next step), Klaus can’t take this chance at the moment. Not with his doppelgänger in town. No, he’ll have them activate their werewolf gene when he gets back. No rush. Besides, it will be helpful to have the mayor solidly in his back pocket. He could even appear the helpful friend, sympathise with the Lockwoods over their terrible fate and then offer them a way to... ease the transformations. A smile touches his lips as he hoists the suitcase up, making for the door. 

Of course, when things are going well, there’s always going to be something to disrupt it. Case in point; Rebekah’s in the hallway with a suitcase of her own. 

“Rebekah-”

“Please, Nik. I need to get out of this town. Just for a little bit.” While that’ s a sentiment he can understand, Rebekah has no pressing plans like he does. No, her issues are the constant battle with Elena’s blonde friend. Kol likes to regularly regale them with the gossip and drama of high school, as if this will force them into suffering as he does (he’s right, but Klaus is hoping if he ignores the brat and doesn’t acknowledge it, Kol’ll give up eventually), so Klaus has heard all about the battle of the blondes. Cheerleader squad this, who’ll help organise the next dance that; it’s dreadfully dull but, for some inane reason, it matters to Rebekah. That his little sister can’t just kill her competition because she’s Elena’s friend and thus, under Klaus’ protection, means that there’s no quick fix either. For Klaus will not allow the one person who’s at the top of his good graces to suffer. Not when she can see the future and will be a help for who knows how many decades.

“Fine. But I expect you to follow my instructions to the letter. No running off and falling for the first boy to offer you a smile and a kind word, Rebekah.”

* * *

_._

_31.10.09_

_._

Near enough tripping through the door, Elena catches herself on the conveniently placed cabinet, forced to drop the bag of Halloween candy in her stead. It hits the floor with a thump, innards spilling out across the wood in an array of vibrant colours.

“Are you well, Elena?”

“I’m fine, promise.” Grinning up at the eldest Mikaelson brother in her acquaintance, Elena scoops up the majority of the candy up into her arms, shoving it back in the bag as she gets to her feet. “More importantly, is Kol ready yet? Or is he still getting ready.”

“It would perhaps be more apt to say he is admiring himself in the mirror,”” Elijah muses, offering her his arm. It’s ridiculously old fashioned but Elena loves it. She steps forwards, tucking her arm around his, the other clutching the candy to her chest. It’s only as they’re walking into the living room (one of the three in this sprawling house) that Elena clicks on to what is so different about Elijah right now. His suit is wrong. Well, not wrong, but… it matches the suit Jack Skellington wears.

He must notice her staring for a smile tugs at his lips and he adjusts the bow tie with his free hand. “Too much? Niklaus was insistent that you not be left unattended what with the current state of affairs, so I volunteered to chaperon your high school dance. Though it shall undoubtedly harm Kol’s reputation with his fellow seniors, I do believe he will survive.”

“Oh no, elder brother buzz-kill is chaperoning, how will we ever survive?” Elena mockingly whines, dropping onto the sofa and throwing her head against the back.

A moment later and Kol vaults the back of the sofa, landing neatly in the seat next to her, one arm thrown around her back. Elena shoots a quick glance his way, then performs a double take, shock racing through her.

“Are you shitting me?”

“What?”

“A werewolf? Really?” And Kol grins at her form beneath his truly lifelike face-painting, glistening eyes the gold of dragon-treasure from what she can only assume to be contacts.

Klaus is going to dropkick him into the nearest volcano if this is a taunt.

“Anyway, you don’t have a leg to stand on, Trouble. Look at you.” And he gestures to the whole of her, from ‘blood’-splattered shirt to the red smeared around her mouth. The cape and false-teeth are unnecessary for those closest to her to recognise what she’s dressed up as, but for the non-supernatural, it completes the vampire look. It also distorts her words something fierce.

“Together, we make one whole Hybrid,” Elena suddenly concludes, scrambling for her phone. “Let’s send Klaus a picture!”

“I think I’ll veto that plan.” Her phone is scooped up and out of her hand before Elena can do anything about it. She frowns (it’s not a pout, it’s not) as she glances up to find Elijah looking down at both of them, a stern frown on his face that is betrayed by the ghost of laughter in his eyes. “Let us leave taunting Niklaus until the night is coming to an end.”

“Such a killjoy, Elijah. Have I told you that he has always been like this?” Kol leans in to whisper conspiratorially by her ear, his eyes locked on Elijah the entire time. Elena bites her lip to subdue a snicker, smoothing down the form-fitting black trousers she’s paired with the ever-useful pirate/vampire/poet shirt for her costume. It’s a good one; she’ll be a swashbuckler next year and won’t even have to find a new shirt.

“Nah, it’s not something you’ve ever shared. But I’m sure Elijah has a casual side hidden away… somewhere.”

“I even have the denim jeans and relax fit shirt to prove it,” the elder drawls, adjusting the cufflinks of his frankly awesome suit. “Now come along, we have a party to attend.”

Among the teenaged drama and deco, Elijah stands out like a sore thumb. Or an Armani among the bargain bin; that’s probably more appropriate. More than a few very tasteful senior girls eye him as he passes by and Elena cannot blame them in the slightest. Of all the originals she’s met so far, Elena can happily admit she finds him the most physically attractive. It’s the dark hair and accent; she’s always had a thing for that.

“Come on, let’s give the Noble Stag the slip while we still can.” But, you know, mischief has always done it for her too.

Kol guides the both of them towards the drinks table, snatching up two cups of undoubtedly already spiked punch, magically holding the beverages in one hand. Elena happily accepts one, taking a sip and smiling at the very faint trace of alcohol. Not enough to even get tipsy on in this cup and she certainly doesn’t plan on drinking more than one. No thank you; she’s no vampire who needs to push down the urge to drain a person dry by drinking herself into a stupor.

“Wow, no couple costumes?” It’s Caroline, all dressed up in a pretty purple witch get-up. She looks cute, not that she doesn’t always. Elena hums, pressing her shoulder against Kol’s ribs and pushing herself onto the tippy-top of her toes. Her fake-fangs can graze at his neck there and Kol laughs, deep and loud at her little ‘nip’.

“Actually, it’s a tragic thing. You see, werewolves and vampires are destined enemies, as only one can break the sun and the moon curse. So actually, we’re star crossed loves. Like, Romeo and Juliet, only more, supernatural.”

Here, Kol lowers his head to press his nose up against the shell of her ear, close enough that only she can hear his whispered, “Romeo and Juliet are still common knowledge, right, Darling?”

“The sun and the moon curse? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s old legends,” Elena murmurs, pushing Kol’s face back and away. She’s a little impressed his face paint has stayed on at all, nevermind the fact it doesn’t appear to have smudged or cracked in the slightest. “A lot of it isn’t even true.”

“You’re so funny, Elena. None of that is true.” And off she flounces, as if Damon Salvatore hadn’t been using her as a blood bag at one point.

Elena frowns, slowly retracting the hand that she’d used to push Kol away. Beneath her feet, the gym floor vibrates with the sound pumped out by the massive speakers beneath the scoreboard, the familiar tunes of ‘Thriller’ hammering through the air.

“Now this one I recognise! I saw this video on the youtube-thing. Music sure has come a long way from Irving Berlin. Now come on, Trouble. I’ve heard you’re quite the dancer!” Before Elena can even consider protesting (not that she would want to; dance practice had been one of the mother-daughter things they’d had going on before shit got real), Elena finds her half-drunk cup disappearing from her hands as she’s pulled out into the dancefloor. Kol’s grinning, the golden flecks of his face-paint sparkling in the fluorescent lights, one of his hands still holding onto hers as he begins to move. And he’s good, not that she would have expected anything different of the original vampire, but actually pulling off some of those famous moves?

“Have you been practicing for this, Menace?”

“Menace?” Kol questions. Elena doesn’t miss the fact he’s avoided her question with zombie claws out in perfect timing. People are starting to stare now and this only cements it; Kol loves being the centre of attention. The drama queens.

“Well, if I’m gonna be trouble, that’s gotta make you the menace, right?”

“Suppose so, Trouble.” Then they’re spinning, his arms around her waist and all Elena can do is step with him unless she wants to end up a crumpled heap on the floor. His teeth flash with fangs, the black veins of his vampiric face either forcibly held back or hidden beneath the war paint he wears. They’re in a quick spin and it’s jolting when they stop, Kol pulling some kind of werewolf finisher pose and she only has half a mind to join him, her fake-fangs posed over his jugular, ignorant of the ‘claws’ wrapped around both her wrists. There’s an applause as Kol pulls her back up to her feet, as ridiculous as that seems.

“Menace and Trouble, Trouble and Menace. I don’t know, Darling. I think we make a pretty good team.”

And then there’s lips against hers.

It’s a sudden thing. The realisation of what’s happening hits her like a slap in the face, though the soft pressure of Kol’s lips feel nothing like that. There’s not even a slip of fang across her lower lip or anything. But it’s warm and… nice. It’s nice.

Elena peels herself back and away from Kol’s lips, even if she remains in his arms, even if her hands stay up on his shoulders (when had they gotten there?). The brush of his mouth, the slightest slip of tongue that’d ran across her lower lip where she’d been expecting teeth; it’d been nice.

But she’s Klaus’ doppelgänger and Kol’s still simmering with vengeance. She can’t trust nice.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt your moment, but I’ve just lost a baby vampire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I've picked an endgame pairing for this fic (I'll probably write a Klaus/Elena one later) but they're nowhere near a relationship yet.  
Because it's not Kol without a game plan, no?


	23. Part 1 - Chapter 12

_._

_31.10.09_

_._

The sound and sight of the baby Salvatore is grating on him during day-to-day life already. Having to put up with his brooding presence, having to deal with the awkward way he avoids Rebekah and then her rants afterwards (as if he’s going to come crawling back to her crazy, their family’s crazy, even with his memories back) is hellish. Having him interrupt what had been Kol’s opening play is the final straw.

“Look, mate. I’ve played nice, ignored your past history with Bekah even, but the line has to be drawn somewhere.” His hands itch for a weapon, preferably one of those brilliant baseball bats; he’ll never be used to aluminium but it sure as hell gets the job done. Not that Elena needs to know what he’s been up to out of town. It’s all on Nik’s orders... well, fifty percent of it anyway. Alright. Thirty. At a push. 

Elena has stepped back and out of his arms now. The fun-loving smile is gone, replaced by a thoughtful, almost wary frown. The pucker to the eyebrows is less than ideal. Clearly, she believes herself to be tied to Nik more thoroughly than he’d thought. And she’s not wrong; his dear elder brother’s not about to let anything harm his precious blood-bag, his pretty prophet who’s given him all his little black heart has desired. It’s a dangerous play, trying to weasel her out from under him. Even just to throw a spanner in the works while he fashions his actual revenge, a perfectly little red herring for his brother to get mad over. Still risky. With any luck, Elena’ll understand and see the funny side one day. Given her abilities, she must understand his need for vengeance. 

“Yeah, well, Vicki the Vampire is gonna dance right across your little line in the sand if we don’t find her before she starts sampling the local brews.” What a crass way to refer to the population.

Kol likes it. 

As Stefan hisses his brother’s name in exasperation, Kol turns his attention to any out of place sounds, and slowing heartbeats, any loud slurping, any puncturing of skin. There’s nothing in the hall, other than a pair trying to stealthily rub off on each other under the pretext of ‘dancing’. Out in the hallway, however...

Kol hums, grabbing hold of Elena’s hand and making for the source. “We have a bit of a problem, Elijah, and as much as I’d like to see a bloody swath cut through the town, I could do without the extra surveillance it’ll bring.” From Nik, that is. He couldn’t give a flying fuck about the council; as if they’d ever be able to do anything to him. 

Even though his brother’s on the other side of the room, Kol doesn’t doubt he’s heard and will follow them as soon as possible. 

“Did he just say Vicki? How did he even get to her?”

“No time for those kinds of questions now, Darling. More important matters to hand.” He can smell fresh blood.

Pushing open the double doors presents them with their first body and Elena hisses in horror. It’s not her first one; certainly, they’ll have been two for Nik’s ritual and then there was that fortnight of cross country road-trip. Still, probably the first body of someone she knows. 

Well, at least public schools aren’t stupid enough to use carpeted hallways, otherwise those blood splatters would be a bitch to get out. 

“Oh god.”

“Far from it, Darling. I doubt the Christians would think him capable of allowing this.” Of allowing monsters like them to roam his great green earth. There’s no point stopping by this one, not given the absence of a heartbeat, so Kol steps over and continues walking, following the faint traces of blood, the scent of baby vampire, around the corner.

Huh. Another body, another puddle of blood. Another thing to step around.

Elena clutches tighter to his hand and Kol reels her after him, drawing her closer, until their upper arms are pressed together. Nik will dagger him until the next doppelgänger pops up if she dies now. And- and she is the trouble to his menace. He can’t let a baby vampire take out anyone under his protection; the shame would never leave him. 

They take another corner, Elena jogging to keep up with his pace and that’s when Kol stops. Target sighted.

The baby vampire’s female (as if the name Vicki hadn’t been indication enough, she’s even in his class, if Kol recalls correctly) and still draining a victim. 

“Tyler! God- Hey! Get off him!” 

Kol’s tearing the girl off her victim just as her head turns to Elena. He grapples with her wrists, snapping the left one but he’s too busy to care about a little accidental damage. This is the most fun he’s had in town for along while. Baby vampire extermination. She’s a threat after all and that can’t be allowed. Kol snatches for the fluttering heart, the girl shrieking as his fingers tear through the plump flesh of her breast, the feeble muscles beneath.

He’s torn off before he can break through the brittle bones. Kol snarls, fangs out by the veins tucked tightly away, breaking the forearm that’s removed him from his prey. The elder Salvatore brother swears and goes down from the shock; it’s the only thing that saves him from getting his head removed by Kol’s follow up swing. That’s fine; it just means he gets to take a second shot and knocking that skull off. 

“Tyler, oh god, Tyler!” Only, yeah, shit, he’s gotta sort Elena out too. Ah, fuck. Fucking fragile humans.

Kol abandons his immediate revenge (he’ll just have to settle for playing the long con after this shitty night has passed) to settle for snatching Elena out of harms way. 

Baby vamp claws at the ground where Elena just was and then, lo’ and behold, the Noble Stag finally comes prancing into the battlefield. Admittedly, there’s something particularly exciting about watching his prim and proper brother cut back and wade into a fight. Though it usually ends up with a lot more hearts out of chests than this. 

Bastard even stopped to roll up his sleeves before he got involved. 

He’s got the girl by the shoulders, pinned, and he’s staring her in the eyes. Compulsion it is then. 

With things well in hand, Kol releases Elena from the bear trap of his arms, watching her stagger towards potential victim number three. The heart is still going but, honestly, Kol couldn’t care less if it did decide to give out. It’d make life easier for him, would make it more exciting as the townsfolk scrambled to find the killer in their midsts. Elena, however, seems to have other thoughts in mind. 

“He needs healing. And then we’ll have to explain this all to him.” She pauses, running a hand through her hair as the human lump on the floor let’s put a long, low groan. “He’s from a werewolf bloodline; I’m pretty certain Klaus’ been eyeing him for transformation... this is not how I wanted to venture into kidnapping.” 

“Oh? And did you want to venture into kidnapping, Darling?” The look Elena shoots him is positively glacial. Well damn, he’s going to be expected to help out, isn’t he?

After several incidents of Kol having to shove the still living body about (through the door, into the car, out the car, into the house), the two of them are finally right back where they started; Mikaelson bloody manor. God, he just wants to crawl up the walls of this place. That or start tearing them down. 

The fact there’s an untriggered werewolf on his floor that, according to dear Elena, his feral brother’s already laid claim to is also more than irritating.

By the door, Elena’s pulling off her heels, a frown on her face and hair stuck to her face. The paint she’d used to create that frankly unsettling pallor is peeling, chapped and smeared around her hairline. When she glances up, a small smile blooms in the corners of her mouth, dark eyes softening.

“Hey, thanks for dragging Tyler in here. I… I’ve known him since I was a kid. Our families interacted a lot; Founding Families, you know?” Kol doesn’t know, nor does he care. But it’s better than dealing with a moping woman. Elena’s much more pleasant company when she wants to get up to some mischief.

“It’ll cost you, Trouble.” He flashes over in front of her, catching her arm before she can fall back, keeping her steady as she comes to terms with the sudden proximity between them. Kol reels her in that little bit more, until they’re a half-foot away from being flushed chest-to-chest, close enough that Kol can feel the heat that radiates off her.

Elena considers him with pursed lips and a tilted head, teeth scraping at her bottom lip. “What do you want?”

“What you got to offer, Trouble?”

Elena’s head tilts that little bit further to a side, brows furrowed. And then there’s her pointer finger running across his own lips, tracing the flesh there as she goes to offer him her wrist. Instead, Kol opens his mouth and sucks the finger in, tongue pressing up against the pad. The furious charge of blood beneath Elena’s cheeks has him licking around the tip before he releases her, catching the wrist before it can retreat.

“Are you sure about this, Darling?”

“Positive.” Well, he’s not about to talk her out of it.

He only drinks a little. Probably not even enough to fill a tumbler and it tastes all the sweeter for it. Elena had winced as his fangs sliced through her flesh, no matter how carefully he inflicted the injury. Once he’s slaked, Kol makes quick work of offering Elena his own bloodied wrist, the bite wound swiftly healing over. There’s no need to offer Nik another reason to tear his head from his shoulders. And if the knowledge that the doppelgänger was blood-sharing with him would throw Nik into a frenzy makes him all warm and bubbly inside, well, Kol doesn’t dwell too much on it.

“It can’t happen again.”

“The blood, Darling? As long as you don’t go acquiring any fatal injuries, you’ll be quite alright.” As will he. Best shadow her home, just in case. Don’t want an accidental vampire turning that might end up with him having to flee the country for a century or two. Though it has been far too long since he went adventuring through Africa.

“The kiss, Kol. I’m attracted to you, don’t get me wrong. But I am the key to Klaus’ kingdom, so the speak, at the moment. And I can’t risk you using me against him. I can’t risk falling for you and throwing my all in, not when he’ll take it out on my family and friends.” Elena runs a hand through her hair, giving a deep sigh. “We’re good friends, Kol. Let’s not ruin that.”

Well, even since he woke up in this century, nothing has sounded more like a challenge than that.

* * *

Pushing at the arm sprawled out on the forest floor with the toe of his boot, Klaus inspects the swath of unconscious werewolves he’s left in his wake, all littered around the dying campfire. Rebekah sits on one long, taking a swig of some truly horrendous alcohol with one hand, the other wiping the blood back from her face.

Some of them had tried putting up a fight.

Squatting down next his nearest future-minion, Klaus begins riffling through his pockets, looking for any evidence that he is the Lockwood fellow they’ve come so far to find. Because, without him, there’d have been no one to oh-so-helpfully lead them to the werewolf encampment. He’ll thank him with a ride back to Mystic Falls, and a firm order he stay put. After all, he’ll need someone to help the other Lockwood boys through the transition.

He goes through four (Callum, Harry, Hayden and George) before he finds the Lockwood. Mason Lockwood had been one of the fighters; a good thing, now that he’ll be loyal to Klaus alone. The two chilled canisters of doppelgänger blood slosh about in their containers, nestled away in his backpack.

“How long is this going to take, Nik?”

“As long as it takes, Rebekah.” The timings are always different, something to do with body-weight and the amount of blood they consume from him, if Klaus had to take a guess. He’s already conducted his experiments over just how much doppelgänger blood he needs. A few werewolves had bled from every orifice before he’d worked out they needed one mouthful of doppelgänger blood. A drop would have made things significantly easier, but Klaus will take what he can get for now. When the fresh supply starts to age, then he’ll begin looking for ways to reduce transformation cost.

After thumbing through the array of plastic cards in Mason’s wallet, Klaus flicks it shut with a snap, turning to the phone. The wallpaper gives him a pause, brain whirling to figure out how and why Elena is Mason Lockwood’s background photo before it hits him.

The bark of near manic laughter that leaves him is refreshing. It also scares the shit out of Rebekah.

But of course. As far as Katerina has been aware, until recently, it’s been the Lockwoods who have had the moonstone. Worming her way into the affections of one to go and fetch it for her (a bargaining chip for dealing with him, not doubt) is so quintessentially Katerina he’s not even surprised. Delighted (for this is his first physical lead in a long while), but not surprised. Perhaps she’s still labouring under the illusion that he believes her dead in a vampire-hunter-induced fire.

Which means when those lovely tomb vampires come crawling out, she’ll probably be back to silence them. Ah, looks like they’ll be sticking around Mystic Falls for a little longer.

By his feet, Mason Lockwood splutters to life with a choked gasp and Klaus reaches for the first flask.

“Morning, mate. It seems you and I have a lot more to talk about than I thought. Now, drink up.”


	24. Part 1 - Chapter 13

**.**

**01.11.09**

**.**

“Morning, Trouble!”

Laying her forearm across the windowsill, Elena stares down at the scene in the street, smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Leaning against his far too fast car, Kol grins up at her, both hands stuffed in his pockets and clearly ignoring the way Tyler Lockwood is trying to force himself out of the locked vehicle. Looks like she’s going to be an accomplish in kidnapping… again.

Her neighbours are staring. Elena waves to them, tucking a strand of wavy hair behind her ear as she leans a bit further out of the window.

“Good morning, Mr. Menace! Just why are you darkening my doorstep at-” Elena quickly glances to the clock. “-seven thirty in the morning?”

“Why don’t you come down and find out, Darling?”

Elena dresses quickly, conscious of the fact a bored vampire with a taste for violence waits for her arrival and has a childhood friend locked in the passenger seat of his car (Klaus’ car? A Mikaelson car? She has no idea in truth). A thick jumper that falls halfway down her thighs, the sleeves hugging at her palms, is paired with worn denim jeans. Coupled with thick winter boots, she’s ready for anything that Kol is planning.

A hop, skip and a jump through the hallway and down the drive later, she’s standing right before her current best friend. Even leaning against the car he’s still taller than her, all dark eyes and looming form. She’d like to claim her eyes drift to his lips with no conscious thought of her own, but that’d be a lie. That kiss has indeed been on Elena’s mind for… well, most of the night. It’s strange; she’s not really considered romance prior to this. Kinda difficult to meet someone with similar life experience and enter a relationship without the threat of the other party getting locked up for relations with a minor. But now… well, there’s vampires about. People with more experience than what their faces lead a person to believe.

One of them kissed her last night.

It’s such a shame she can’t trust his intentions.

“And just what mischief and mayhem will you be dragging me into today, Mr Mikaelson?”

“Well, Darling, I was thinking a spot of kidnapping, then we’ll take a joyriding to the nearest city and run riot through the streets. Maybe even cause a scandal, if you do so permit it, Miss Gilbert.” It sounds like a fantastic plan, the kind of thing she’d never have gotten up to before Klaus came roaring into her life with the force of a thunderstorm, the sweeping gale of Kol following in his wake to whisk her away to parts unknown.

The thumping on the glass windows of the car has Kol rolling his eyes skywards, twisting to get a better look at his captive. Elena does feel terribly sorry for Tyler, but it is perhaps for the best that his parents assume he has crashed at a friend’s house. If they know he’d been attacked by a vampire, she doesn’t doubt the council would have made a move on the town’s supernatural by now. Which, as one of them herself (albeit, one not effected by the Gilbert device), she would very much like to avoid.

“Give me a moment to calm the rabble-rouser, then we’ll get on with our day, shall we, Darling?”

Kol whips the door to the car open faster than the human eye can follow; all Elena knows is that, one moment he’s standing beside her, next he’s in the car and staring intently at Tyler. She can barely make out the movement of his lips, but it’s enough to recognise some compulsion’s probably happening in there.

There’re also only two seats in Kol’s car. Looks like she’s riding on Lockwood lap until they drop him off. Preferably without his mother seeing them. She’s not sure what would be worse; the wife’s mayor catching her as an illegal passenger in a car, or Tyler’s mum thinking she was hooking up with her son. Both options are equally undesirable.

“Climb in, Darling. Tyler’s agreed to listen to a brief overview of his family history and to allow you to widen his worldwide view.” Kol’s in the driver’s seat, though there’s more than enough room for her to climb onto his lap, which is clearly what he wants. And, quite frankly, she’d feel a lot more secure there; vampire speed and reactions mean that, should the worst happen and Kol crash the car, he’ll be able to get her out.

“Better suck in that gut, Menace.”

“What gut, Trouble? I’ll have you know these are washboard abs.”

Sitting with her legs thrown over Tyler’s, back to the door and Kol’s arms wrapped around her waist so he can reach the steering wheel, Elena does her absolute best to ignore the vast array of laws they’re probably breaking right now. They mix sometimes, the English with the American, the present with the ‘future’. Eh, she manages. What is very attention grabbing are the muscles of Kols’ thighs moving beneath hers as he works the pedals, the shift of his torso as he spins the steering wheel. How Caroline’s mother hasn’t already attempted to pull them over, Elena doesn’t have a clue.

More important than the attractiveness of her current seat is waiting for Tyler’s reaction to the vast array of truths he’s just been fed about the universe.

He’s staring out the windscreen, a vacant glaze to his eyes and Elena nudges his thigh with the toe of her boot.

“Still in there, wolf boy?” 

“I don’t fucking know, Elena. Maybe you should try being told you’ll become a murderous beast if you make one accidental kill.”

“No, I just get the joys of witches hunting me down to bleed me dry so they can level up their magic. And that’s excluding the blood ritual where I literally died in order for my protective Hybrid overlord to unleash his true form.” Huffing out a sigh, Elena rests her head against Kol’s chest, cheekbone to collarbone, inhaling the smoky aftershave he’s slapped on. Urgh, out of the three Mikaelson boys she’s met, it’s Klaus that smells the best. Not that she’ll be voicing that thought aloud in present company. That would be silly to do.

Kol’s a joint second. He smells warm and cosy. But there’s something delightfully rich and pleasant about how Elijah smells.

“Do you want me to take my shirt off, Darling? Then you can smell me anytime you want.”

Elena scowls and buries her face further into his chest (his yummy, solid pectorals) just to be contrary. Kol laughs, the sound rumbling beneath his ribcage as they pull up outside of the Lockwood residency. Hopefully out of sight of the mayor and his wife.

“I’ll have it later,” Elena mumbles, turning her gaze on Tyler, a small smile slipping across her lips from the look of sheer disbelief he’s offering them. “If you ever need to talk, Tyler, then you know where I am.”

“And with those comforting words, you may now get your wolf-ass out of my car.”

They drive down the main drag out of town, screeching away down the tarmac at a rate Elena wouldn’t dare to drive on her own. The winter’s sun is already high in the sky, almost to the summit of its climb in truth. Certainly, they’ll be returning when it begins to darken.

“So, what’s on the agenda today then, Mr Mikaelson?”

The engine roars, the vibrations shaking the seat of the car as Kol speeds up again. The scenery flashes by outside as he turns to look at her, teeth white and framed by the wide smile of his lips. Elena listens as he describes the day he has planned; a visit to nearly-local witches (a two-hour drive counts as local in America, right?), followed by a tour of Charlottesville to revisit some of Kol’s wild days as a free vampire. Not that he says it as such, but the fact he’d been out and about there back in the 1800s.

As he talks about the original witch family who’d lived there during his last visit, Elena checks how secure her seatbelt is (not that it would mean anything if they were to crash at this speed) and just watches her companion. She doesn’t try avoiding the thoughts of that kiss yesterday, doesn’t try to suppress it. Instead, she turns it over and over again in her mind, considering it from a few different viewpoints.

Kol’s a vengeful bastard who’s rightly angry about being locked in a coffin for a century and a bit. She’s Klaus’ precious doppelgänger and one of the surest ways to hurt his agenda at the moment. On the other hand, Kol is both very attractive and doesn’t come with the too young mentality for her.

Well, when she weighs it up like that, there’s no contest. Not if she wants to keep her family and friends alive.

“Alright there, Trouble?”

“Just weighing up the consequences of allowing you to keep pushing towards a romantic entanglement. As thrilling as the thought of getting down with you is-” and now that she comes to really think of it, sex with a vampire would be something to brag about, “-I don’t wanna end up dead in a ditch because of some power play between brothers.”

“You wound me, Darling. I’d at least go to the trouble of burying you.”

Elena sniffs, twisting to stare out the window and hide her smile.

“I’d want a spectacular eulogy.”

* * *

“Dare I even ask?”

Elijah doesn’t even bother to stare, having already wasted a single glance up from his book in order to observe two of his younger siblings returning to their new family home. Kol remains out, undoubtedly exposing the lovely Elena to more violence than is perhaps appropriate. Given her status as the doppelgänger and her abilities as a prophet, Elijah isn’t particularly worried. He’s rather certain that the girl would have refused to leave town if she were aware their expedition was to end poorly. So yes, not worried about a potential disaster away from home. When they return however?

“Where’s my doppelgänger?” NIklaus snaps, dropping the body he’s been dragging by one arm to the ground. The man hits the floor with a meaty thud, a low groan confirming he is not yet a corpse.

“I believe she has a name, Niklaus.” An angry sigh follows after Elijah’s words and the eldest smirks to himself, flicking to the next page.

“Fine. Where is Elena? We stopped by her humble abode on the way back but she wasn’t there.” The silent ‘she isn’t here either’ hangs heavy in the air between them.

Elijah weighs up his options. It has been near twenty-four hours since Kol made his move towards vengeance against Niklaus for daggering him. While Elijah is displeased by the thought of Elena having stumbled into the firing line, he is also clear headed enough to acknowledge this is merely Kol’s opening move, a red herring to distract Niklaus from the actual attack. He has chosen this play rather well; nothing will enrage Niklaus more right now than a move that puts his doppelgänger at risk. And it is for this reason hat Elijah hesitates to bring up just what occurred while Niklaus was out and about.

It is so very clearly what Kol wants and Elijah has not forgotten that it was he who aided his brother in the daggering of the Wily Fox. So, if there is vengeance to be had, it will most probably be visited upon him. Niklaus may have forgotten, but Kol is perhaps the smartest of them; he had excelled as a witch in their life before, a prodigy in the art. Whenever he wasn’t daggered, he had been learning, schemes and plans ticking over in that tricky little mind of his.

Elijah is intimately aware that he’s still on Kol’s shit list, though perhaps not as far down as Niklaus himself.

Still, it would be morally right of him to place Elena’s safety above whatever petty squabble his siblings are about to engage in. Unless it threatens the very wellbeing of his family (and his concept of wellbeing is perhaps more skewered than what the norm would consist of) then Elijah will look out for the young woman whose interactions with Niklaus have resulted in this near stable ground for them to tentatively meet on.

“Kol kissed Elena during the Halloween dance,” Elijah reports, closing his book with a crisp snap, offering Rebekah a comforting smile as her eyes narrow with envy (for some incomprehensible reason, his dear sister wishes to actually attend these high school events, as mundane as they are).

Niklaus’ head snaps violently around to stare him down, a frown that is most displeased upon his face.

“He what.”

Elijah ignores him, opting to continue informing the duo of just what they have missed with their journey to Florida.

“Elena very politely requested that Kol refrain from chasing that particular route, though she did indicate that she finds him attractive.”

“Please, the doppelgänger finds all of you attractive,” Rebekah announces, flouncing to the kitchen, kicking off her heels as she goes. One lands on the discarded man that still remains on the floor. He groans but doesn’t otherwise move; compelled then.

“She’s the first doppelgänger to have a good head on her shoulders, that’s for sure,” Niklaus concludes, striding over to his abductee. He squats down to his level, grabbing a handful of hair in order to tilt his head back and meet his gaze. Somehow, Elijah is utterly unsurprised to see the family resemblance between this man and the young teen Kol had dragged home half-dead last night.

“You’re to go to your brother’s house, pretend everything is fine. Give no hints about what we are or what occurred down in Florida. As for your phone, well, you’re graciously allowing me to borrow it.” Well, that’s a particularly chilling tone. Clearly there’d been something or another on that phone that either has Niklaus upset or plotting. Possibly both.

As the probably-hybrid stumbles out of the house, Niklaus turns to him and grins. It’s a cold thing, bitter and twisted, a winter storm.

“Alright, Elijah. Tell me everything about what happened last night.”

“I won’t allow you to dagger our brother again, Niklaus. Not until he has done something that threatens the welfare of our family.” Because, for all that Elena is helpful, perhaps the most helpful human they have come across in recent years… she is not family.

Family first. Always and forever.


	25. Part 1 - Chapter 14

01.11.09

It has been twenty-four hours since the royal fuck-up of his life has occurred and Tyler Lockwood is still trying to get to grips with it all. It’s as he sits here, metaphorically chained to this sofa with nothing more than a command, that he realises racing off to confront this terrifying ‘hybrid’ was perhaps a bad idea. Not that rethinking this shit is going to help him now. His life is fucked; it’s that simple. His girlfriend (former girlfriend now) had tried tearing his throat out last night, he’d been healed by some mystic vampire thing (he’d tried not to pay too much attention to Elena’s explanation beyond the supernatural shit being real), and his uncle had rolled into town. An uncle who, now that Tyler considers it, exhibits all the werewolf traits that Elena had warned him about.

Well fuck.

“Finally.” The artist his mum’s currently going gaga over surges to his feet, making for the hallway as a car door slams shut outside. That’s good news for Tyler considering the demonic, controlling fucker has silenced him until others appear and had clearly been weighing up what to do with him. Tyler’d had no option but to quietly sit there and accept whatever his fate would be, which had sucked.

He shifts on the couch, able to do that much, in order to look over his shoulder. The place is fancy, screaming ‘inheritance’ more than it does ‘artist’. Though what does Tyler know; he’s just a stupid junior who thought he stood a chance against the strongest bastard in the world. He’d thought the sister was hot; now that he knows she’s a bloodsucker too… well, she’s still hot. Psychotic, but hot.

Tyler’s not touching that with a ten-foot pole. No way, no how.

The front door opens and Kol, the younger fucker, the one who kidnapped him yesterday, strides through.

Klaus has him by the neck a moment later. They moved so fast Tyler hadn’t even been able to track them.

Twenty-four hours ago, Tyler would’ve been worried about the older man going at his younger brother with a dagger. He’d have well and truly freaked the fuck out at the way the younger fucking loses it at the sight of the blade.

Now… now he’s just morbidly curious.

“Holy shit! What the hell!”

“Elena!” Oh, thank fuck.

The girl herself twists to look at him, brows puckered, lips parting in surprise.

“Huh? Tyler?” No answer comes from the two brothers. Mainly because the younger has managed to kick Klaus off him and through a wall. He looks like… well, like Vik’s friends did when they’d had a little too much and believed the world against them, believed that demons stalked them in the shadows.

Given how they might have died, maybe they were onto something.

“Try it again and she dies.” Kol, the fucker who may or may not be dating Elena Gilbert (one of the hot pieces of gossip at school) has her in a near chokehold, teeth now fangs and Tyler tries to stagger to his feet. His ass doesn’t manage to leave the seat. Fucking fuck-

“Kol!”

The newest voice cracks through the room, a bolt of lightning in the storm, bold and flashing and just daring anyone not to listen.

All of them turn to the newcomer, though Tyler supposes he’s the only one to not recognise him. Though the face is vaguely familiar.

“Niklaus, put the dagger down. Kol, release Elena or I will dagger you myself.”

There’s a tense moment where Tyler genuinely thinks that neither of them are going to listen and this newcomer is going to have to throw down as well. He’s got to be a vampire too, has to be with the way both Kol and Klaus have paused at his demands, even as they eye each other like only top predators can do.

Elena looks delicate as fuck right now.

There’s a breath and then Kol’s slowly loosening his grip in the same moment Klaus is placing that shiny dagger of his on the side table. The younger one watches every motion of the weapon and there’s a distrust to his eyes that Tyler’s pretty sure haunts his own whenever he’s home. Only what registers as a threat to him is clearly a bit different to Kol.

Why the fuck is every family in this town fucked up; even ones that’re older than the town itself?

“Now, are we going to discuss this like adults, or shall the lovely Elena and I leave you to your tantrums?”

“Of course, the Honourable One is going to come to the rescue with his shiny armour and ‘I give you my word’ promises,” Kol snarls, though he nonetheless slinks into the living room, eyeing Tyler like he’s a particularly nasty shit that’s been left on his lawn. Tyler snarls right back at him, intimately aware of how very breakable he is right now.

“Naw, we’re like disappointed parents,” Elena suddenly muses, linking her arm with the unknown’s before marching over herself. “Maybe if you’re both good, we can give out rewards instead of sad frowns.”

“I’ve no interest in Elijah’s rewards, Darling. Yours tastes far sweeter.”

* * *

It takes Klaus exactly two seconds to make the connection and then he’s launching himself at Kol again, near incandescent with rage. Elijah moves quick enough to catch him and Elena just watches in sheer disbelief. Kol’s pushing Klaus’ buttons but, for the life of her, she cannot figure out why. Oh, it’s clearly something to do with revenge, but beyond that? Yeah, she has no idea. Surely admitting he’s had a drink from her will just lead to bloodshed. Or daggering, as the usual punishment apparently is. Does he really want to miss a few decades… Oh. He’s relying on her to nag Klaus into release him.

Should she be irritated that she’ll do exactly that if Kol suddenly disappears? Especially after he’d held her hostage against Klaus, like a human shield?

But nah. By some sick twist, she trusts him to do her no permanent harm. Huh.

“Kol-”

“Family are supposed to share, are they not?” Kol seems a lot braver now that Elijah is willing to grapple the Original Hybrid on his behalf. Though how long that’ll stand, Elena doesn’t have the slightest clue. Instead she edges closer to Tyler and away from the snapping of Klaus’ teeth, fangs dangerously close to sinking into the flesh of Elijah’s neck. Should Klaus be looking into anger management? Probably. Is she gonna be the one to suggest that to him? Er, no.

“Look, Kol did me a favour and I thanked him for it. That’s what decent people do. Can we move on from this now? I’d rather like to know why Tyler Lockwood is sitting on the couch when I’m sure I sent him on his way yesterday.”

Klaus goes still for a moment, the hard line of his shoulder a clear indication he has in no way released any tension. Kol’ll probably be looking over his shoulder for the next… thirty years. At least. Klaus inhales, a sharp, long motion that he purposely drags out. His eyes slowly slide over to look at her, still tinged amber but the dark sclera is gone.

“Lockwood here thought confrontation would be the answer to all of his problems.”

“Ah.” For what else can she say to that? Feeling as if her smile is a little strained (it’s probably very strained indeed, but she’s trying to ignore it), Elena smooths imaginary crinkles from her shirt and fiddles with the hem. “Right, well, Kol’s gonna take me home-”

“Like hell he is. I’ll be taking you home, Little Love.”

The youngest Mikaelson opens his mouth to protest, but its quickly shut by Elijah’s hand clamping around his jaw, the other easting on his shoulder. A warning.

Elena leaves with a long backwards glance, her eyes meeting Kol’s and an uncomfortable sensation squirming in her gut.

The car ride back is tense. Klaus sees no need to fill the air with mindless chatter and Elena’s too busy folding all sorts of different thoughts back and forth over one another, dough she’s mentally kneading. Sucking in her lower lip, Elena slouches back into the chair, arms folded across her chest. It’s awkward as fuck and she doesn’t like it.

“Is the blood thing really that big of a deal?” she asks, eyes still staring straight ahead, focused on the road. Not that it’d make a difference if she did see a deer or anything. Klaus would undoubtedly spot it first and already be steering out the way before her feeble human brain even registered it.

“It’s sex.”

Elena chokes, hacking on the spittle she’d been in the middle of swallowing when Klaus spoke. She turns to glare at him with teary eyes and he might still be looking at the road, but the smirk on his lips tells a thousand stories.

“What answer were you expecting, Little Love? It’s an exchange of body fluids; that’s practically sex.”

“I thought sex was supposed to be fun,” she ribs, shifting about in her seat until she’s a little more comfortable. The conversation isn’t exactly one she’s had with anyone here and the fact it’s with a thousand-year-old vampire is just… odd.

“If you’re doing it right, it will be. Fun is not the word I’d apply to blood sharing… pleasurable is perhaps the closest definition. Regardless, your blood is something of a commodity and our Wily Fox knew exactly what he was doing.” Klaus’ words take on a dark tone as he finishes his sentence as they’re pulling up onto her road with a screech of tires; she hadn’t even realised how quick they were moving.

“So, is that like, a community thing then? Is it a vampire intimacy thing between couples? Do you get vampire prostitutes for blood sharing?” They’re a whole other community and Elena’s just scratching the surface with her association with them. There’s an amused tilt to Klaus’ lips but he says nothing, instead hitting the internal lock and releasing the door so she can open it. Elena sits there a little long, still bubbling with questions but she’s clearly not going to be getting answers yet.

“Well… Night then, I guess.” She doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like not knowing where she stands, where her rights are. Until now, she’d been protected, hidden behind Klaus’ fearsome shadow. She’s never had his ire turned on her and she doesn’t like it. Not when-

“It’s my blood. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to give it out as I want.” That’s the crux of it. It’s the loss of control that she’s experiencing. Obviously, she’d known that was coming, what with making a deal with Klaus. Even then, the sudden lack of autonomy that’s expected of her his grating.

“Oh, Little Love, the second you handed yourself over to me, your blood became my blood.” Klaus’ fingers are around her jaw, his hold as gentle as his words are possessive. He still wears his mask of humanity, his eyes are still that strange mix of green and blue, but they’re dark. Possessive.

“I’ve done everything I can to help you, countered things you’d not have thought about; do I not retain a little right to independence?”

“Of course, Elena. But blood sharing with Kol is not a habit you want to get involved in. The little bastard can get… possessive and I’m sure I don’t need to explain how very poorly things will go if he starts making all the wrong decisions.”

She’s relatively certain Kol’s dead set on making the wrong decisions anyway. For a brief moment, she can rather see why.

“Alrighty then. Clearly, we need to outline what I can and can’t do. Please note the ‘we’ in that sentence; I suppose I share one thing with my ancestors in that I won’t live under a dictatorship.”

Klaus says nothing as she climbs out of the car but Elena can feel his eyes burning into her back for the entirety of her walk up to the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why this chapter was so difficult to write; I don't like it :/


	26. Part 1 - Chapter 15

_09.11.09_

“I,” Elena announces to an empty room, “am having a crisis.” It doesn’t make it any better, saying it out loud. A crisis, a conflict of interests, whatever she wants to call it, it doesn’t change the current state of affairs. She knows she is well protected in Klaus’ looming shadow. But she’s also realising how little control she has over… everything. Predominately, her body. Specifically, the blood within it. Her future. Everything she sees is tied to the Originals, strings upon strings that weave between them, that work her into the great tapestry of their lives. There are so many different paths she could take, different decisions she could make and, each time she considers one, the future she dreams of changes.

“You have school today, Little Love.”

“I’ve already called in sick,” Elena declares, not even surprised to see that Klaus has appeared from out of the void, occupying the space upon her windowsill as if it’s his every right to be there. He probably believes it is. He’s also probably not wrong.

Pulling her legs up to her chest, Elena rests her chin in the space between her knees, arms around her shins and gaze focused on Klaus. He’s in the usual henley shirt and dark jeans, not a speck of dirt on his combat boots.

“I’ve been thinking. The only thing that’s really keeping me tied to this place is the knowledge that the tomb vampires will be let out.” What’s keeping her tied is Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, Caroline. Tyler too, especially now. She’s the only semi-normal person in his acquaintance that he can speak to about the supernatural; she kinda feels responsible for him. “If… if you can promise me that you’ll ensure Jenna and Jeremy are protected, that Bonnie and Caroline and Tyler will be safe… then I’ll let you take me anywhere.”

“Anywhere, Little Love?” The bedsprings creak as Klaus invites himself to take a seat, head cocking to a side as he inspects her face, as if looking for any hesitation, any doubt. He’ll see it; she’s far from sure this is the best option. But, as far as she can remember, the supernatural had come to her. Everything that happens is a snowball effect and the catalyst is her presence. The only issue cemented here are the tomb vampires, the ones Anna is trying to release. No, she’s just here for her mother, isn’t she? But then again, that many vampires lurking beneath the town, it’s bad news all around. Especially if they get released and she’s not here to help contain them. No, wait, she wouldn’t even be doing the containing, just offering the knowledge to Klaus and company to deal with them.

“I’m far from stupid, Nik, you and I both know that you’ll never be satisfied here. It’s New Orleans, isn’t it? Or, that’s where I keep ending up in my dreams, one way or another.” She’ll have to come clean to Jenna and Jeremy, she cannot just up and ditch them. If she and the rest of the Mikaelsons disappear at the same time, it’ll be terribly suspicious, suspicious enough for police to come investigating. But… but if she fakes her death and the Mikaelsons just happen to move away, if Klaus and Kol can play the devastated friends (ha) who cannot bear to remain in a town that reminders them of her… it might work. Of course, Jenna and Jeremy will have to be told; she could never dream of going on with her life knowing they think she’s dead.

“You fake my death; we get out of here and… I get to see the world, like I never did in the life I had before this one. It removes me from the people close to me, but it also keeps them safe from the people who’d hurt them to get to me.”

“And I’m included in that number, aren’t I, Little Love.” It’s not a question so Elena doesn’t offer an answer, instead stretching her legs out so they rest upon Klaus’ lap, toes wiggling in the air.

“The tomb vampires need a Bennett witch to release them.”

“I’ll call in a favour to give our Bennett witches a helping hand. I have my own reason for remaining in Mystic Falls for now, but I don’t doubt that issue will be solved with the resurgence of the tomb vampires.” Klaus pinches her little toe between his forefinger and thumb, pressing lightly into the nailbed before he releases her. “You’ll have about a month to prepare yourself, Elena.”

Then he’s gone, disappearing out from under her before she can process that he’s actually accepted her tentative deal. Well, they can iron out the details in the next month.

She waves Jenna’s concerns off with a guilty conscience, all but ordering her legal guardian to get her ass off to university. Forty minutes later, she’s curled up in her duvet, laptop open with six different tabs on things to do in New Orleans (the abandoned Jazzland looks particularly thrilling) when she gets her first text of the day.

‘_Why am I suffering through High School with no Trouble to guard? x_’

It’s strange that Kol still ends his texts to her in a kiss when she’s rebuked him. Or, perhaps it’s not when they’ve done the equivalent of the vampire monster mash together.

‘_I’m ‘sick’ from having to make big life decisions. You’ll be thrilled to know there’s now a countdown until your High School days are over xx’_

_‘Oh? Do tell, Darling x’_

_‘I’ve agreed to relocated to New Orleans once this whole tomb vampire thing is sorted out. All it requires is that you act sad once we’ve faked my death, and maybe even help me explain the supernatural to Jenna and Jeremy? Pretty please with a cherry on top? I’ll love you forever and ever and ever xx’_

_‘Pretty sure you’re gonna love me no matter what, Darling _😉_ x’_

Elena scoffs, eyes rolling skywards as she sinks that little bit more into her duvet, clicking on the link that takes her to a page filled with information on Jean Lafitte's Old Absinthe House.

‘_Depends how good your tour of New Orleans turns out to be. Did you ever meet Jean Lafitte? xx’ _

‘_You’ll find out when we get there, Trouble x_’

Elena spends the rest of her day making a list. It’s titled ‘Trouble’s To Do List’ and contains everything she’s found out about New Orleans so far that she wishes she could do. That she wants to do. There are bike tours and gondolas and canoe activities, there’s the vast array of voodoo that’s available to the tourists (though, maybe not to her, given witches are real and she’s a main ingredient for many witch-produced soups) and the architecture- oh man, the architecture. She could spend weeks just walking around the place and admiring it all and that’s just an opinion based on pictures alone. Elena’s rather certain she’ll be even more blown away when she gets there.

So yeah, she’s spent a day making a list when she probably should be in school. However, she’s already passed schooling once, even if it were the English system and not the American. And, where she’s going in life, a High School diploma isn’t going to open any doors that’ll be shut in her face.

Jenna and Jeremy, Bonnie and Caroline and Tyler surface in her mind again and Elena shoves them to a side. She can unpack that box anytime in the next month. No, now’s the time to be psyching herself up. Among her list, in addition to everything focused on New Orleans, there’s also other bucket-stuff shit she’d like to do. Experience drunkenness for one night in her life (no more because man, she needs a good liver to be a good blood bag, she’s sure of it), wind up some tourists, wind up some locals, cling to the back of a car on a skateboard; all the silly shit she sees in movies and reads about but isn’t feasible for the regular jo. But she’s not a regular jo, she’s the doppelgänger and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get to take advantage of that.

Closing up her laptop and capping her pen, Elena puts her notebook in the bedside draw and leaps to her feet. She’ll treat Jenna and Jeremy to a chicken dinner, along with any Original that wants to turn up.

Huh. It’s starting to feel like she’s got a little bit of her mojo back.

* * *

The idea of freedom from this small town (from his hometown, no matter if the term wasn’t around when he was a child playing on this very land), swirls around his brain for the rest of the day. A month. He can wait a month. A month until he can get back to New Orleans, a month until he can discover if there’s a way back into his little hideout, a way to continue working on the dagger.

The very thought bubbles and boils under his skin, sets his nerves on edge in a way nothing else (nothing other than a word he dreads to think about, lest he become involved with anything to do with the first immortal) has ever managed.

Klaus coming at him with that thrice cursed blade- he refuses, refuses to be put under again. Tying himself to Elena seems to be working for the moment, Elijah seems repentant enough to stop Klaus. Though, for how long that will last, Kol cannot begin to guess, nor does he want to. He’s needs something tangible, something physical that he can hold and know that it is his insurance, his way to get Klaus to back the fuck off unless he wants to lose a century or three.

The bell goes and Kol’s already out the door before the rest of his senior class have even registered it’s time to go home.

The question is, does he head to the Gilbert home for a homemade meal, or back to the Mikaelson mansion where there’s daggers lying in wait?

Obviously, there’s only one answer to that.

He’s in the driver’s seat and pulling out the car park just as the rest of the student body have begun to pile out of the building, dial tone echoing through his ear. Corey Gabriel is slow to pick up but Kol can forgive him; the boy’s only fifteen. Young as he is though and raised by his grandparents, he’s the only witch in his family that has a mobile phone on him during the day.

“I’m sorry I was so slow picking up, Mr Kol. I had to get out of class.” Right, Texas are an hour behind. He should have probably remembered that but now his head is spinning with plans and ideas and all sorts of delicious schemes on how he can deal with his pain in the neck, dagger-happy brother.

“You got any relatives in New Orleans, Corey?”

The boy gulps before he answers, the sound long and hard.

“I- I don’t think so? I can ask Grams. She’s been before, so, so she might have made some friends over there.” Yes, a witch visiting New Orleans would have made all sorts of other friends.

“Brilliant. Ask her if there are any Claire witches still kicking. I’ll be needing one soon enough and I don’t appreciate wild goose chases.”

“Okay, I will do- er, is that everything, Mr Kol?”

“Yeah, kid. Get back to me on it.” He hangs up, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as his mind spins. Before, neither of his two witches had been able to transform the dagger into something that could be used to effect on Klaus. They’d not had the power, they claimed.

Well, Kol just so happens to be in the acquaintance of a woman whose blood acts like a superpowered boost to any spell performed by a witch. It’d work out well for both of them’ Kol gets his vengeance, Elena would get to live a long and happy life (and her family would too, given that Klaus’d be boxed up) and, when they eventually decide to undagger him, then Kol would have the only weapon that could threaten the Hybrid bastard as leverage. It’s so close he can almost taste it.

One month to get things ready, one month until the opening move.

They key will be Elena. Sure, he’s made a slight misstep moving too quick, but their easy-going friendship persists and, no matter how close she is to his brother, that little outburst last night shows she’s craving freedom. All Kol has to do is make it clear that he can give it to her. If she lends him a hand, that is.

One month. One month, and then the real fun starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA, I forgot where I was going with this so now we're off somewhere completely different. Tally-ho!


	27. Part 1 - Chapter 16

_02.12.09_

“And with this, you’ll leave town and never return?”

Eyes rolling skywards, Klaus leans back against the old stone walls, eyes locked on the (physically) open tomb before him. Sheila Bennett stares at him, all hard eyes and untrustworthy frown on her lips, one hand clenching tight to the pendant that hangs in her grasp. Beside her, Greta watches impatiently, arms folded across her chest and a look to her face that suggests she’s most unhappy to be here. Given how things have turned out for her, Klaus can understand that, what with her male relatives teaming up with Elijah to track down her ‘kidnapped’ self. Discovering the girl had joined him willingly hadn’t gone down well with the other Martins, nor had they been happy to learn she had no intentions of abandoning her duty. All that had been required from him was just a few smirks, empty promises that she’s his favourite witch. Obviously not true; he’s not Kol, he doesn’t have a favourite. Just ones that he can use to meet his ends.

And speaking of those he can use-

Klaus’ eyes slide over to the rest of the Martins, here to support Sheila, to land on the young vampire from half a year ago. Annabelle ‘Anna’ Zhu doesn’t dare to meet his eyes, nor does she try to run. Not that she could, instructed to remain in position by compulsion, she doesn’t have a choice in the matter. Now, for all that Klaus has issues with mothers, he’s far from heartless. After all, dear Anna had provided him the location of his defenceless father. Regardless of if it were freely given or not, even that little bit of help deserves a reward. That both she and her mother have a stellar grudge against Katerina will only aid him.

“I’ll have no reason to return, not unless you manage to capture Katerina, that is. And I promise you, I would be on my best behaviour if I were returning to pick her up.” Klaus smiles, watching the woman frown, her eyes lifting to better inspect the rising moon. It won’t be long now until the tomb can be open, once the full body of the moon reaches its zenith in the sky.

“Now, dearest Annabelle,” Klaus turns to the younger vampire, pushing off from the wall to stalk closer to her. Her eyes snap up to look at him, wide and round, lips parted ever so slightly. Her shoulders are tense, hands closed into fists, even if it’s clear that she stands no chance against him. They’re both aware of it, they’re both making their own plans around it. “You’ll go into the tomb, retrieve your mother, and bring her out. You’ll then stake every other vampire in there. Once you’ve completed that task, the two of you are free to go and I shall never haunt your life again. Not unless you cause upset for any of the humans whose names I have given you. And if you so happen to find Katerina, well, do call. You’ll be rewarded greatly for it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Klaus.”

“There’s a good girl.” Klaus claps the younger vampire on the shoulder, turning back to Sheila when her chanting begins. Once this tomb issue is over, he’ll go see how his Lockwood wolves are handling their transformation (their first, for two of them), before he settles on changing the two local ones. Once that’s dealt with, he can send Mason after Katerina. He’ll be more than capable of handling her now that he’s a hybrid. The delightful Sire Bond will also ensure that he doesn’t fall for her coy little tricks too.

Just a handful of little things to deal with, and then they can finally skip town. Elena had been right about one thing; New Orleans does call to him.

* * *

“You’ve edited my To-Do List.”

Kol doesn’t turn around, but his shoulders do twitch, like he’s trying desperately to supress laughter.

Clambering over the back of the sofa, Elena plants her feet on the cushion beside Kol, dropping onto her ass a moment later. Then, she takes great pleasure in thrusting the notebook into his face, near enough whacking the edge of the book on the edge of his chin. He takes it from her hand, twisting too fast for her human eyes to follow. Once the world stops spinning, Elena finds herself laid across the sofa, wedged between the back cushions and Kol himself. Were he human, it’d be one cough and he’d be off the edge of the sofa to meet the floor. She rather things it’d taken a bit more than that to dislodge a vampire though. Hell, it’s more likely that he’d pull her with him than to resist being thrown off.

“I don’t see anything that’s shouldn’t already be in your priorities,” Kol muses, lying beside her, head cushioned on the arm of the sofa, feet resting on the other. Elena’s not tall enough for her feet to reach in the same way, so she settles for propping them up on Kol’s shins.

“Really? Let’s see,” Elena pauses, snatching the book back from Kol, licking her forefinger and thumb to better flick through the pages as dramatically as she can. “One year in New Orleans Targets,” she reads dramatically, turning to eye Kol. He meets her gaze with absolutely no shame, eyebrows even wiggling, smug little smirk on his lips. She doesn’t rise to the bait, instead turning back to her list. “Experience a drunken night out. Sneak into Jazzland and come back with a souvenir. Bang Kol. Go to the French Quarter festival and dance with a cute boy.” She stops there, twisting to look at Kol again to find the mirth burning bright in his eyes, one hand now behind his head to better support his neck. “You know, I’m almost impressed. How the hell did you slot that mid-way in the list?” It’s smack dab in the middle, the handwriting exactly the same as her own and, had she not redone this whole list just two days ago, Elena would genuinely have wondered if she’d put that down by mistake.

“Now that’d be telling.”

“Yes, it would, which is exactly what I want you to do.”

“You’re fresh out of luck then, Trouble. Secrets come with pillowtalk.”

Elena huffs, twisting onto her side until she can lean forwards, her lips brushing the shell of Kol’s ear. “Can sofa cushions count as pillows?” She pitches her voice low, ups the breathy tone just that little bit and perhaps she shouldn’t be playing with fire like this. Ever since New Orleans had been announced as their Christmas and beyond location, Kol had been… more motivated. Scheming is probably the best word to describe it all; Elena’s dreams have cone through more twists and turns than an Olympic gymnast, always spinning around a few new faces, faces that have become so common to her in sleep that they’re practically familiar now. But she knows they’re all part and parcel for the Mikaelson brothers plots and plans. Sometimes they work, sometimes Kol manages to put Klaus down for a bit, sometimes he gets caught in the act and is out of commission himself. Sometimes they fuck each other over so badly Elijah or Rebekah or even Elena herself gets caught in the crossfire. Never mind the innocent civilians that end up dead. And the worst is, half the time the whole thing gets so twisted because Elena herself has earned Kol or Klaus what they other is up to. Would things have been easier for her mental state if she didn’t have these dreams, if she’d just had memories of a show from her past life? Most probably. Would she get rid of the visions if she could? Not a chance in hell. The thought of being utterly blind to the future makes her sweat; she’d never give up this little advantage, no matter how much trouble it causes. Hell, barring her doppelgänger blood, it’s her one selling point right now. 

“They could, if your aunt weren’t coming back right now.” Kol states, arm suddenly wiggling between her waist and the sofa, hand on her hip to better hold her against his side. 

Yum, muscles. Were it not for all the fuckery the action would cause, ‘bang Kol’ would definitely be on her To-Do List. What a shame. 

The keys in the door rattle and then she can hear Jeremy talking to Jenna, discussing the pocket watch he’d refused to hand over during Founder’s Night. Which, yeah, completely right of him, it’s his possession. Even if it weren’t a supernatural stunner, Elena would still be backing his corner on this one. 

“-it’s not like they can demand that- oh, hey Kol. Didn’t realise you were dropping by tonight.” Jeremy leans over the back of the sofa, spots her wedged between vampire and cushions, and his face lights up with a grin. “Hey, Aunt Jenna! Kol and Elena are looking a bit cosy here!” 

“They are?! Where!” There’s a thump as Aunt Jenna stumbles, another two following as she discards her shoes to make her way into the living room. Elena swallows down the bile in her throat because it’s the second of December. It’s a full moon, the tomb vampires are being dealt with and it won’t be long until she’s on the open road with the Mikaelsons again (even if there’s double the amount that there was last time). Only, there are no plans to return to Mystic Falls after she leaves. 

It’s time to tell Jenna and Jeremy the truth. 

They’re going to hate her.

The two sit through her whole explanation with no fuss, if only because they seem torn between disbelief and horror. It’d probably have been easier with Bonnie or Sheila here, someone who could show them magic instead of Kol, who refuses to show of the vampire face when asked. He does bite into his wrist to show them the quick healing though; it’s the only thing that her aunt and brother (her guardian and her cousin) react strongly to.

At the end of it all, Jeremy doesn’t say a word, just gets to his feet and storms out, the thunderous slam of the door the only sound he leaves them with. Jenna… Jenna remains sitting on the single chair, a distant sort of glaze to her eyes and Elena swallows, heart hammering in her chest. Jenna and Jeremy, they’re family. They’re the most important people in this life. It is so unbelievable important that they remain safe, safe in the way she’d failed to keep Mum and Dad.

“I can’t change what I am, Jenna. I was born like this and every single supernatural being with even a little knowledge will be trying to get a hold of me. The sheer amount of danger- you’re both safer without me, and I’m safer with the Originals. Klaus is literally the strongest being in the world now because of what he is and because of what I am, he’s highly motivated to protect me.”

“And Kol.” It’s the first thing Jenna has said, but it’s nurturing that little bit of hope that she hadn’t utterly destroyed her relationships with her family.

“I take care of my friends,” Kol declares, voice soft as he wraps one arm around Elena’s back, hand resting on her hip but it’s not… possessive. Just, present. The warmth of his palm radiated into her skin and Elena leans into the touch, keeping her eyes on Jenna.

“I want texts. I’ll get you a new phone, but I want daily texts to know you’re okay. And phone calls, lots of phone calls. And pictures to know you’re okay.”

“You do realise we’re going to have to compel you to act as if Elena’s actually died for the first few weeks, right?”

“Kol-” Elena elbows him in the ribs but the vampire on her side has a point.

“You’ll need another phone as well and somewhere to hide it; we’ll compel you to forget about it until it’d be appropriate for you to not be completely devastated and then you’ll remember where it is with Elena’s texts on.”

* * *

“Well, that went well,” Kol muses, striding out of the Gilbert house with both hands in his pockets, whistling a jaunty tune he’d heard on the radio a few days ago.

“Are you kidding? Jenna’s in shock, Jeremy stormed out, and Bonnie asked me to leave after I was done talking to her.”

Kol rolls his eyes skywards, dismissively waving his hand through the air. “They’ll come around. You’re in the right.”

“Has it ever worked that way for you?”

Kol stops on the pavement, looking down at Elena as she peers up at him, her arms wrapped around herself for warmth, despite the thick coat she wears.

“What is it that you want, Kol? When you get to New Orleans, I can tell you’re going to put plans in motion; I watch different ones in my head every night. But it’s the end goal that’s important.” Of course, she does. She’s a seer, she’ll know half of what’s coming before he even launches it, the only way to keep her guessing is to not settle on a scheme, to not settle on a plan.

“I want insurance, Elena. You have no idea what it’s like to have centuries stolen from you, to have that threat hanging over your head that if you put one toe over your bastard brother’s line in the sand, you’ll be waking up two centuries later. What completely boggles my mind is that you don’t want that insurance. You’ve seen how controlling Klaus is, you’re leaving your family because he’s made a fuck-tone of enemies who won’t hesitate to use you against him. Don’t you want the insurance that you can just, put him out of commission for a bit, so you can actually get to live your life on your own terms?” Sure, Elena’s making the best of it, she has her little New Orleans To-Do List, yet, what is that but activities to be completed in a pretty cage? She’ll always be at his brother’s beck and call, just like he’s unable to shake the bastard. Mikael’s gone now; Kol could just, take off. Disappear into the wind.

But then it’d be like he’s running scared and Kol is anything but a coward.

“These are my terms, Kol. I’ve weighed up the positives and negatives; New Orleans is the best place for me at the moment. Being under Klaus’ protection, even if I have to keep bargaining for every little freedom I can weasel out of him, that’s the safest place for me at the moment… and, I like your company. I like the company of all you Originals, even if Rebekah takes the mick out of some of my clothes. It’s not really a hardship.”

Kol wouldn’t know about that. She’ll soon change her mind; they’re a self-destructive family (forever and always doesn’t matter; he wasn’t included in that, had always been the black sheep so why would that change now?) and they’re drive her away eventually. If they don’t end up driving each other away first.

Elena pinches his nose between her forefinger and thumb, grinning as she waggles it about. “You know,” she says with a smile, releasing her pincher grip, “things were easier between us when we were running riot on an all American road trip.” Back before he’d realised just how messing about with the doppelgänger will infuriate his brother. Back before Elena had begun questioning his motives in growing close to her.

“Do you prefer easy, Trouble?”

“…No… I think I prefer honest.”


	28. Part 2 - Chapter 1

_10.12.09_

“Man, the Bayou is huge!”

With her face all but pressed against the window, Elena peers out at the dusking landscape as Kol races down the open stretch of road, just a shade below the legal speed limit. They’re going down the I-10 into New Orleans and it is an honest to god miracle that he’d managed to get Elena in the car without Nik snatching her up… well, the miracle bit isn’t true at all. It’d taken careful, strategic planning, showing up at her door at the ass crack of the new day (aka, still night time) in order to cart her out and set off. They’d texted Nik an hour after they’d left Mystic Falls. His elder brother is, of course, going to be apocalyptic with rage; Kol’s rather pleased they’ve managed to shake him for the time being.

With Elijah and Rebekah travelling in the van with most of Nik’s worldly possessions (seeing as Kol’s are still in his little clubhouse, Rebekah’s in Chicago or storage, and Elijah having his own stashed away) and a comatose Finn stashed in the back, that leaves the hybrid bastard to chase after them in a sports car of his own.

A shame Kol got a head start and has a lovely little seer sitting in the passenger seat. They’d stopped for food and waiting for Nik to go whizzing by in the car before getting back on the road, travelling at a far more leisurely pace now that the hybrid was in front of them. Does he feel bad for New Orleans, the poor city that is about to have Hurricane Hybrid make landfall? A little bit. Hopefully, the town will be more welcoming to the return of the Originals when they show up to corral Nik… okay, when Elijah shows up to corral Nik and Kol takes in the damage done with undisguised glee.

“If you’re so interested, then we can go trekking through the wilderness once we’ve settled in, Darling. We can make a date of it.”

Elena eyes him, as she’s taken to doing whoever he makes mention of dating or couple like activities. For all that she has memories of another life, she’s still a teenager in this one. Kol knows all about being trapped in a teenaged body and the lovely little hormones that come with it (he had been paying some attention in his time at school, even if he’d quickly eaten through the syllabus). Physically, she’s only two years his junior. Admittedly, he’d only just been pushing nineteen when he’d been turned, but nineteen is still nineteen.

“Dates are cool. Just don’t think we’ll be getting serious, m’kay?” Elena finally peels her face from the glass, tilting her head to look at him with a large, sunny smile.

“We’ll see, Darling. Ah, the park’s new.” They’ve stopped at the crossroads and Kol takes in the burst of greenery with appeasing eyes, inspecting the gates to the park.

“Louis Armstrong Park, according to the SAT NAV. There’s date number one.”

“I like the way you think, Darling.” Now, the streets have become more familiar, even if the buildings haven’t. Ah, America is far more organised it the structuring of most of its cities. A terrible number of European ones are just sprawling streets that are built rather like a spiderweb, it that they fill the space available instead of, say, clearing the wilderness to ensure the streets themselves are structured and organised.

The little side street the digital map (ah, technology sure has come a long way while he’s been out of commission) has delivered them down spits the two of them out at Royal Street, right where the Abattoir stands.

“It’s still here,” Kol breathes, forcing the car into park and utterly ignoring the lines that say he shouldn’t be parking there. He’s in New Orleans now and, if he needs his car again, then he can just compel whatever worker carts it away or puts a clamp on it.

The door slams to his back and Kol tilts his head back, holding an arm out to Elena as she’s approaches. Though it’s winter, New Orleans has never been a cold city. Nonetheless, Elena wraps her cardigan tighter and steps closer, all but sticking herself to his side. Kol adjusts her arm until he’s both comfortable with how Elena’s arm rests against his ribs, and in his ability to cart her out of harm’s way if need be. Nik should have been in the French Quarter for at least an hour and there’s no telling just how many supernaturals he’s managed to piss off in that short scale of time.

“So, this is the old haunt, is it?” Elena asks, tilting her head back to inspect the building. It’s exactly as Nik wanted it to be, his taste in architecture, his interior decorating, if the former-new-owner (because, let’s face it, they won’t be living for much longer) hasn’t changed anything. Stepping up to the front door, Kol tries the handle. It opens. Sharing a look with his companion, he takes a step over the threshold and his lips purse. So, either Nik has already got to the owner, no one dared move in after whatever shitshow went down to drive Nik out of town, or… there’s no one living who’s in charge of this house.

“Let’s be careful, Darling. Who knows who’s waiting for us on the other side of this?” Elena hums, one hand going to the deep pocket of her cardigan, where he knows a modified bottle of ‘pepper’ spray resides. Ha, pepper spray, more like vervain spray. He most certainly approves, as long as it’s not aimed in his general direction.

Kol goes in first, ears already attuned to the sounds coming from what he’d guess to be the courtyards. There’s a fair few people (vampires, they’re vampires) present. And the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, not in the fun, sexy way either. More in the fun, kicking-the-crap-out-of-each-other way. He’s intrigued.

It’s some kind of vampire fight club. Stalking around the outskirts of the group, smiling charmingly and acting as if he has all the reason in the world to be here when others look to him suspiciously, Kol tucks Elena further against his side and looks for the one in charge of it all. It takes him a moment but, when he does pin the ringleader down, his stomach flips a little.

Oh. Well, in the very least, Nik’s calamitous rage will have a much more reasonable outlet than Kol himself.

Marcellus clocks him a half second later and the jolt of fear that licks through his eyes is glorious, even if the emotion is gone a split second later. As expected, the little weasel begins making his way down the stairs, waving off three of the other vampires who try to join him. Only the one in the hat remains. A second in command? How cute.

Double checking that Elena’s alright and that none of the vampires (who are slowly beginning to fall silent and turn to stare at them) are too close, Kol turns a blinding smile back on Nik’s beloved Marcellus. The one who was supposed to be dead, according to Rebekah’s tearful renditions of their escape from New Orleans. She’d spoken of it once and no more, clearly still effected by it all despite the near century of time that has passed by. A century that seems to have served Marcellus well, if the current state of things is true.

“Well, well, well, Kol Mikaelson. You’re the last person I was expecting to turn up on fight night.”

“Oh? Is this a weekly event?” Kol asks, head tilting to a side to inspect the crowd, searching for any recognition on the faces among them. Not one recognises him, but the last name? That clearly rings a bell for some. “Is there a prize worth winning? Or is it just for some entertainment?” Cocking his head back, Kol flicks another look towards the ring, a sly smile crossing his face. “My, Marcellus, you sure have come a long way from the squeamish boy who struggled to sit through one theatre performance.” That has the fucker’s jaw locking in place, no doubt flashing back to memories that’ve probably laid untouched for a long while. He’s a grown man now, though Kol knew that already. After all, it’s this fucker that helped Nik dagger him, that gave Nik reason to dagger him. Why on earth shouldn’t he just rip his head from his shoulders now and be done with it?

“Nice to meet you, I’m Elena Gilbert.” Oh yes. That’s why. Pretty little doppelgänger, Nik’s precious doppelgänger blood-bag who his big brother will be racing to reclaim. And he’ll get the joys of throwing Marcellus under the bus to Nik’s incandescent rage. Let’s see if Nik really believes him family when the fucker stands here in the ancestral home, having apparently claimed everything of theirs, having lived and not sought his adopted family out after the attack by Mikael.

“Marcel Gerard. Now, what’s a nice girl like you doing on the arm of a Mikaelson?” It goes unspoken that she’s human with only a single bite scar on her neck, goes unspoken that she doesn’t appear phased by the physically violence she’s walked in on.

And, well, Elena’s the seer here. He’ll let her pick the shots for the moment.

“I’ve been working with the family for a year,” Elena whispers conspiratorially, eyebrows wiggling as she leans a bit further into Kol’s side, all but plastered against his arm now. Kol has zero problems with this. Not only does the closeness make it easier to scoop her up if needs be, but Elena’s slender curves are pressing hard against his biceps. Distracting.

“Maybe it’s time to consider pursuing a new career then,” Marcellus (like hell is Kol going to refer to him as Marcel; he got given a name by Nik and if he’s going to spit that back in his face, then Kol will be using the full name as a constant reminder to his dear brother of just how Marcellus considers them to be ‘family’) says.

“Nah, I get good bonuses. Like a really good-looking bodyguard who’ll take me on dates and spirits me away from Klaus when need be.” And there it is, the name that stops Marcellus in his tracks. An unnatural hush falls on the crowd now; where before there were whispers, there’s nothing but silence now.

“Mmm, speaking of which, Darling, I suppose we best get going. The Abattoir will undoubtedly be his first stop and we most certainly do not want to be around when that storm lands,” Kol muses, twisting a thin strip of Elena’s hair around one finger. Though he’s looking at her, he can still keep track of Marcellus in the liquid reflection of her eyes. That blank face is promising. Soon enough, Nik will be sufficiently distracted in reclaiming the Abattoir (nevermind the French Quarter itself) and his keen eyes will surely slip from Kol’s form in that time. Besides, Mary-Alice had been kind enough to be-spell his apartment to keep out anyone other than those who enter with him. It’s the perfect place for the two of them to spend the night given neither Nik nor Marcellus ever found the place.

A quick google search before they’d left had revealed the shop beneath has been turned into a bakery, so they’ll even have breakfast available in the morning.

“Best of luck with that reunion, Marcellus. Nik’s been in a good mood recently, but it’ll only take one nasty surprise to turn that around.” Such as an ingrate adopted into a family abandoning the second he’d had a feasible chance.

Marcellus realises it too for he quick steps around them, halting Kol in his exiting out of the house Nik once owned.

“Come now, Kol. Family should stick together, shouldn’t they? And this shindig here, it’s right up your street. Stick around for a while, you might even enjoy how some things have changed with time.”

“I think I’ll have to pass, Mate. Trouble here has a bedtime and we’re way past it.” On cue, Elena leaps into his arms, looping her own around his neck and yawning far louder than needs be.

No one dares to stop them as they leave, but Kol gets the feeling it’s a close thing. There’s clearly tension between Marcellus and Klaus that needs to be sorted out and, for a moment, he wonders just what caused it.

Then, he decides he doesn’t care and, as long as he’s not caught in the eruption, he’s more than happy to sit back and watch the fireworks go off.

* * *

If she were to guess, Elena would say Kol’s old apartment is a five-minute walk away from the Mikaelson family home. It’s a bit of a surprise they been Klaus to the place but, then again, she’d not exactly been looking for when they were meeting up again. They will, because she’s his doppelgänger and he’s her protective hybrid overlord. But right now, she’s enjoying her downtime with Kol before the shitstorm of Mikaelson family drama hits New Orleans.

Being the absolute sweetheart he is, Kol had compelled a human into the apartment to fix the water and the ancient boiler. Her vampire companion has already been making arrangements via the internet to update their current place of residency to a more modern style, along with all the technology they’d need. After all, nobody seems to have been inside here since Kol himself.

It’s been about an hour now and Elena steps out of the bathroom with a towel turban on her head, keeping the wet strands of hair from dripping onto her pyjama top. Sitting on the ancient fainting couch that’s recently had the dust beaten out of it, Kol clicks away on his laptop, mobile phone by his side and currently in the middle of a call he’s most certainly not listening too. Elena needs only take a look at the caller ID to understand why. It’s Klaus. He’s probably found out about Marcel by now. Yeah, that’s probably gone down like an asteroid.

Upon spotting her, Kol picks the phone back up, scowling at whatever it is Klaus is saying.

“Whatever scheme you come up with, Nik, we’ll catch up on it in the morning. Dear Elena will undoubtedly want to get her beauty sleep in and it has been a terribly long drive. Night, brother!” he chirps the last part, eagerly hanging up not a moment later. The phone is quickly shut off, probably to abort any further attempts at conversation. It’s an effective method, that’s for sure.

“So, are you going to fully spruce this place up, or move somewhere better?”

“Considering Mary-Alice’s spell still stands, I’d be a fool to surrender my one safe place from Nik, wouldn’t I, Darling?”

Elena laughs, sitting herself down beside the vampire and curling her legs up, wedging her cold toes under his thigh. The water may be working, but the only ancient heating system in here is a fireplace that’s fresh out of logs.

“You know, the bed would be much warmer, under all those covers.”

“Am I going to be finding this Mary-Alice’s hundred-year-old knickers in there?” Elena retorts, watching Kol laugh, head thrown back and oh, why is she suddenly finding his neck, of all things, attractive? It’s a strong neck, the muscles clear with the movement and she wants to run her tongue across them.

“Of course not, Darling. You’re the only girl I’ve ever brought back here since that spell was cast.” Well, that’s reassuring. Century old spunk probably smells bad, it’s nice to know there won’t be any here.

She’ll still beat the sheets before they clamber in anyway.

“What you looking at?”

“The sights of the city. Interior designers. Shops where we can find the appropriate furniture for this apartment. I expect you’ll be spending a fair amount of time here, Darling.”

“Oh? You do, do you?” True, she’s agreed to a date or three. But she cannot, in good conscience, explore a serious relationship with Kol Mikaelson. Not when she relies of Klaus for protection and the two brothers have yet to settle their differences. 

“Well, other than my glorious face, you’ll soon realise any location that allows for a reprieve from Nik is a place to be treasured. You might as well have your own personal touch on the safehouse from Hurricane Hybrid.”

She snorts at the name, tucking the smile away against Kol’s shoulder, resting her head there to peer at the screen.

“I like yellow. Yellows and greys. African sunset kind of tones.”

“Sounds warm. I’ll trust your judgement, Darling, I’ve never had much of an eye for style. Function has always been the prevalent factor in my purchases.”

“I can see that.” And she really can. Even if they were bought a hundred years ago, Elena highly doubts the curtains went well with the big bear rug on the floor. But she can also see how everything in here is selected for purpose, from what must have been a futuristic heating system at the time to the stove itself. The vast array of decomposed herbs that occupy the top makes her want to sneeze, but it’s clear Kol still holds his witchy roots close. “I’ll warn you now, my feet and hands get cold as fuck during the night.”

“Quite alright, trouble. I’ll keep you warm.”

They both crawl into bed an hour or so later, having selected a few shops to try tomorrow for apartment related stuff. She supposed Kol has access to his own secret stash of money, despite his constant daggerings.

Head on the pillow, Elena shuffles back against the bulk of Kol’s warm form, basking in his hiss of pain when her feet come to rest on his shins and she proves her earlier warning holds salt.

“Ever considered wearing socks to bed, Ice-Feet?”

“Nope. Tried it once, it’s really uncomfortable. Ever considered sleeping in pyjamas?”

“Oh, Darling, you’re lucky I’m wearing pants at all.” In truth, she’s not sure if that is lucky for her or not. Once again, to recap, Kol is attractive, Elena is very aware of this fact and a relationship with him would be a big, bad idea.

Doesn’t change the fact it’s remarkably easy to fall asleep in his arms though.


	29. Part 2 - Chapter 2

_11.12.09  
  
_

“Hey.” 

Kol flicks his eyes open, finding Elena laying right beside him, the delightful scent of morning breath filling his senses. Kol responds in kind, blowing a mouthful of air in her face. Her little nose scrunches up at the smell and Kol grins.

“So, we’ve got our heads on pillows and we’re talking. Time to tell me how you edited my list.” 

It draws a bark of laughter from Kol’s throat, short and sharp. He eyes Elena, watching her shuffle a bit closer to bury her nose into the boiling warmth of his collarbone. He doesn’t understand how she’s so cold. Sure, there’s no heating yet, but his extremities are hardly freezing right now. Why Elena is cold, he cannot begin to fathom. He still wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer anyway, tucking her head beneath his chin, one set of fingers finding her hair and coiling it back and forth between them. 

“You know exactly what type of pillow talk I was referring to, Darling.”

“Oh, I do. But I’m in your bed and have had a good whiff of your morning breath. Pretty sure that’s pillowtalk stuff.”

“The answer’s still no way, no how,” Kol grumbles into her hair, hugging her a little bit closer and forcibly jamming one of his legs between hers. Elena stills are the motion, but he keeps his leg low, knee to knee, not venturing further up like she’s clearly worried he’ll do. After a still moment, she accepts the gesture for what it is; a simple way to get comfortable, and the tension bleeds free of her form. 

He wants to stay like this, just for a little bit. Pretend New Orleans does not wait outside the door, that Nik and Marcellus and Elijah and everything else do not lurk around the corner. He misses his days as a witch, where magic danced between his hands and the world was at his fingertips. A time when the little mysteries in life were the most exciting, where he could uncover why a plant reacted to a spell, where he could work on the protective barriers from the wolves. 

But there are times he doesn’t regret leaving behind, even if those situations have only evolved into a worsening state. Elijah, Nik and Bekah, promising always and forever and leaving him side-lined. Their father ‘correcting’ his behaviour, dragging him into the yard with a blade when Kol has always been so much better at inducing mass headaches to down his enemies. The village girls watching his brothers and never once sparing a look to the youngest son of Mikael. 

Now, now it’s still Elijah, Nik and Bekah together, centuries of playing the dream team while he retains his black sheep status, replaced by the bastard upstart Nik would dagger him for upsetting. Spending centuries running from Mikael, fearing for his immortal life. The Noble Stag and Original Hybrid forever the focus of the power-hungry who circulate his elder brothers as if they hold the answer to the world’s mysteries. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if Elijah did know at least one of them. 

There have been far and few moments where he has been able to just exist as Kol for a little bit, to drop the title of Mikaelson and Original. 

Elena licks a stripe up his collarbone and Kol near enough rips her away from his chest. She laughs, cheeks flushed with colour and no longer pale, mirth dancing in her eyes. 

“You weren’t answering,” she says in lieu of an excuse, a deep exhale forcing the strands of hair back and away from her face. 

“And just what was so important you felt the need to bless me with bodily fluids?”

“Ew. Sounds weird when you put it like that,” Elena tries shuffling closer but Kol stops her this time, palm in her face and fingers spread wide to catch the rest of her head, pushing her back. 

“Not falling for that one again, Darling.” 

She huffs, like a little kitten denied playtime. Small hands wrap around his wrist and pull his hand back just enough for her to speak, peeking around the space between his fingers. 

“I said I’m hungry and you live above a bakery. Will you get me some breakfast, please?” The big doe eyes flutter, eyelashes too short to brush over her cheeks with the motion but it’s a close call. Kol waits, lets her sweat it out for a moment, just to see what she’ll do. Apparently, an appropriate response to silence is to press her lips to the tips of his fingers and pout.

“Alright. Food, then we’ll have to go deal with Nik’s bullshit. If he gets dagger happy-”

“Then I’ll pull it out,” Elena promises, kissing the tips of his fingers now. “Thank you, Menace.”

“You can pay me back later, Trouble.”

Yesterday’s clothes, a quick jog downstairs and a handful of notes later, Kol’s back in his outdated living room, waiting for the pipes to die and signal Elena’s done in the shower. A selection of French pastries lay before him on the coffee table, placed upon the vast array of napkins he managed to make off with. All but the Buckwheat crêpe madames, which he is steadily devouring. Topped with eggs and ham, they’re a perfect breakfast snack and Kol doesn’t feel bad in the slightest that there’ll be none left for Elena by the time she gets out the shower. She should be quicker and he’s bought a fair amount of all the other pastries. 

Shovelling a sixth crêpe between his lips, Kol fishes his phone from the depths of his pocket, turning the device back on. The moment the screen is done loading, thirty-six missed calls and twenty-three unopened text messages make themselves known. All from Nik. Barring the most recent message, that is.

‘_Answer Niklaus’ message and reassure him that Elena is safe, otherwise I doubt even I will be capable of deescalating the situation you will find yourself in._’

Well, that remarkably to the point; how so like his dear, noble brother. 

Firing off a text to Nik, reassuring him of Elena’s safety (and his own, not that the hybrid bastard’ll care) within his spelled apartment, Kol devours the seventh and final crêpe just as the pipes quit their rumbling. It’s only a few moments later that Elena makes her way out of the bathroom, top-half of her hair tied back in a short ponytail and the short strands that hang free dusted with a few droplets of water. 

“Thanks for breakfast, Kol. I’ll cook tea.” 

“If we’re not too tangled up in Nik’s plans to eat.”

“Yeah, there’s that,” Elena agrees around a mouthful of croissant. She’s not even cut it open to spread the jam inside, instead dipping it into the disposable pot of strawberry preserve. What a savage thing she is. They’ll have to meet up with Elijah in the very least today because Elena is in her only other set of clothes, brought along in the bag she’d had in the car. Sports cars are certainly good for going fast, but storage room is something they fall monumentally flat on. 

“So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“That would depend entirely on Nik; if he’s found Marcellus, we’ll probably be cleaning up a mess. If he hasn’t, we’ll be witnessing a mess when he does find out.”

Elena hums, short and sharp and Kol instantly associates the sound with guilt.

“You already knew Marcellus was alive, didn’t you?” Of course she did; doppelgänger and seer. Nik’s little advantage in this brewing war. Ah, Kol really does need to get a lay of the land, needs to understand what’s causing the tension with the vampires (and probably the witches too). Investigating is all find and dandy, but having a easily injured liability like Elena could be… problematic. But then, if Nik’s about to start a one-man-war with all the fractions of the French Quarter (only a one-man-war until he can call his own army into action), then she’ probably safer in his company.

“Elena, Darling. How strong are your delightfully helpful visions? Are they useful enough to foretell an attack coming just before it happens?”

“I’m not sure. Before, it was just dreams. They’ve gotten stronger though and the only link I have between them is…well, vampire blood. I mean, when Klaus healed me before with his blood, and then when you did the same recently- I noticed they were getting stronger.” She shrugs, selecting a pain au chocolat to slowly begin peeling apart, nibbling on each thin strip of pastry she tears away.

“Care to test that hypothesis then, Darling?” Kol bites into the soft pad of his finger before Elena can truly think about it, holding out his hand before him, the blood beading quickly on the tip. Painfully slowly, Elena places the remaining half of her pastry back on the bed of napkins, taking a careful hold of his hand. She doesn’t draw his finger up to her mouth though, the cut sealing shut, as each injury he has ever received does. Only the droplets of blood balanced upon the digit remain, a dark bead of red in the morning light that leaks through the window.

“Isn’t this the equivalent of vampire sex?” Elena asks, thumb resting on his pulse point.

“Between two vampires, blood sharing is probably as intimate as sex for humans.”

“Right, and I’m human,” Elena concludes, drawing his hand close, wrapping her lips around his finger. A quick flick of tongue and yep, Kol needs to find out what is going on with the witches and Elena is going to spend the day with Elijah. Safe, sensible Elijah.

* * *

The eldest conscious Mikaelson stares with exasperation in his eyes when both she and Kol round the hedge to greet him. Elena couldn’t care in the least for the emotion, not when the elder Mikaelson sits with her favourite coat folded over his lap. It’s not cold, per se, but she’ll certainly feel more comfortable with the jacket around her shoulders. Bouncing forwards, Elena plops herself down on the bench beside Elijah, happily shoving her arms through the relevant holes to then zip the coat up.

“Good morning, Elena. I trust you were safe and content within Kol’s care?”

“Oh yeah, he even got me breakfast from a cute little pastry shop. Ten out of ten, would sleep over again.”

Elijah glances at her from the corner of his eyes, the smile on his face warm as he flicks to the next page of his newspaper, shuffling along the bench and gesturing for her to copy the motion. She does and Kol is quick to fill the space on her left, one arm thrown over the back support, fingers toying with the edge of her collar.

“And just what, Kol, is it that you shall be getting up to whilst transpiring through New Orleans?”

“Oh, you know, Brother. Sights to see, witches to speak to,” Kol waves his other hand through the air as he speaks, turning a sly smile on her the moment he’s finished addressing Elijah. “My apartment is always open for you, Trouble. You need only text.” The edge of his thumb brushes her cheek in goodbye and Elena forcibly corrects him of that thought, quickly wrapping her arms around his waist to give a goodbye squeeze.

And then he’s off, disappearing at a rate that’s perhaps a little too quick for a normal human, if the way others stare after his figure is anything to go by.

Elena does not miss the trio of teenagers watching him disappear; she can’t blame them, in all honesty. What’s the phrase again? Something about leaving but loving to watch walk away? Eh, it’ll come to her.

“So, Mr Mikaelson, what’s on the agenda today? I am, it seems, in your capable hands.”

“The first would be to set up a permanent place of residency. As it appears our previous accommodations are not viable at this moment in time, that leaves us to look elsewhere. Tell me, Elena, how are you at interior decorating?”

“Full of energy and willing to give anything a try. Though I’ll need a step-ladder to reach the top of a wall.”

Elijah laughs, a warm chuckle of a sound, dark chocolate before a fireplace and it’s very clear why so many people find the noble stag of the Mikaelson family attractive.

It’s a shame she seems to be unreasonably attracted to mischief instead.

They’re on their third house on the outskirts of New Orleans, about a half-hour drive from the French Quarter, when Klaus catches up to them, Rebekah in tow.

“Don’t even bother. I’ve got the old house sorted out,” Klaus snaps with a dismissive wave, striding forwards and showing no signs of stopping as he gets closer and closer. Elena freezes in place as he takes her head in both hands, pupils dilating and oh- she’s being compelled.

Things get, fuzzy, for a moment. She blinks, eyes scrunching shut as she tries to sort through her whirling brain as Elijah’s bellow of Klaus’ full name echoes through her head.

Cautiously peeling one eyelid back, Elena looks to Rebekah, the only other person not knee deep in an argument.

“What happened?”

“Nik checked you for any compulsions. Because of course Kol has flounced off to get neck-deep in his own shitshow the second we arrive.”

“Can’t really blame him if the reaction to me spending time with him ends like this,” Elena grumbles, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind her ear and looking to the rumbling form of Mount Klaus. “Anyone care to update me on what’s happening?”

Klaus takes great pleasure in updating her on what’s happening, once they’re all shuffled into their respective cars, that is. Rebekah rides with Elijah, leaving Elena passenger to Klaus’ impressive driving. Impressive if only because he doesn’t let his rage effect how he drives, which, yeah, she’d totally have been expecting. There are werewolves that’ve been cursed and driven out of town, witches that are sweating bullets given how much pressure Marcel is extorting on them, and the vampires are fighting tooth and nail for every bit of territory they claim.

“It’s a ticking time bomb of a situation,” Klaus cheerfully announces, the tone utterly at odds with how he swings the car into a tailspin, pulling up outside a mansion. It’s clearly a Mikaelson residency, made clear by the grandeur with which it has been built. Klaus, Elena has long since known, has expensive taste. Hand still clenched in the door handle, Elena peels each finger free one by one, removing her seatbelt a breath later.

“So, how do we defuse the bomb?”

“Oh, Little Love, you’re asking the wrong question.” Striding up to the front door, Klaus forces it open with a bang, storming into the room with an excitable, chaotic energy that makes Elena hesitant to follow. Follow she does though, working her phone back and forth between her hands. It won’t be long until Elijah and Rebekah arrive in their car and she’s more useful to Klaus alive. But this temperament isn’t something she’s dealt with before. It’s completely reasonable that she’d be a little hesitant… right?

“Okay,” Elena says, following Klaus up the steps and walking into the entranceway, “then what questions should I be asking?”

“How do we set off the bomb for maximum impact.”

“…it’s a bloody good thing we’re not discussing this by text because, otherwise, I’m sure we’d be on several watchlists after this conversation.”

Ripping off the white sheet that covers a lounge chair, Klaus twists around to look at her, the shoulders of his leather jacket bright in the light spilling in through the windows. The manic smile on his face is far from comforting.

“This is war now, Elena. War. Vampires, witches, wolves. It’s a powder-keg just waiting for a spark. And we, my siblings and I, are a bonfire. And you, my darling doppelgänger, are the secret weapon.” He’s in front of her suddenly, one hand cupping her face and Elena stares into the blue eyes, heart hammering away in her chest. “I need to know Kol isn’t going to be working against me.”

“You’re asking me to spy on him.” Running a hand through her hair, Elena shakes her head, placing her hand over Klaus’ and pulling it away from her face. She keeps her hold on it, swinging their joined limbs side to side, refusing to look away from his gaze. “I’m not going to side with one or the other. Every damn time I see it happening, you ore Kol get fucked over. Most of the time, Elijah, Rebekah and I get fucked over as well. Have you ever considered just talking it out as a family? There shouldn’t even be a question of whose side you’re on. I- I could never imagine pitting myself against Jeremy.” Jeremy who, at the moment, is compelled to believe her dead. Who won’t remember she’s alive until February at the earliest.

“Oh, Elena, Love. I’m rather sure you know how I work by now. Kol and I, the chances of us ever talking… it’ll never happen. It’s just not how things work.” And he walks away, deeper into the house, though heaven only knows what he’s looking for.

Elena fingers her phone once again, thumb brushing back and forth over volume buttons she never uses on a phone perpetually on silent. The rev of another car echoes outside, gravel crunching under tyres. Elijah and Rebekah are here. And it’ll be the three of them against the world, once again. But-

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve just learnt that my work has been taken and uploaded through an app called ‘fanfic pocket archive library’. If you are reading this through said app, please cease and desist and go through the actual AO3 website. I have given no permission for my work to be used as such. This is theft of my intellectual property and I am so sick of it happening.


	30. Part 2 - Chapter 3

_12.12.09_

“-completely unreasonable!”

Turning to the next page within an old diary (ah, 1823, a rather peaceful year for them, given their family), Elijah lifts his head to watch Niklaus storm across the dining room of the Governor’s old house. Niklaus had been the one to throw the Governor’s son to his death, if only because he threatened to draw Rebekah’s attentions away from their family. As always, his relationships with the rest of their siblings remain, complex. A fact that has led to this very temperament, punishing the dining room floorboards as if such an action will bring about a settlement of peace within his mindset.

A thousand years and still Niklaus is unable to control his turbulent emotions and rampant paranoia.

“Well, it does make a fair amount of sense. While it is true that you can grease the wheels of bureaucracy and allocate Elena the owner of this property in order to remove the ability of all other vampires from stepping inside without due invitation, that does not solve the issue of the witches, along with the werewolves that will come upon learning that you can turn them into hybrids. If they come peacefully, or with the intent of visiting violence upon you, it matters not. What remains is that your current plan only saves Elena from the presence of vampires and leaves her defenceless to any other enemies you collect within these next few weeks.” Weeks, days, hours; Niklaus truly does have a talent for instilling hatred into his foes.

“That still does not explain to me why her safety is best entrusted to the Wily Fox.”

“Then, brother, you have clearly not been paying attention to the situation.” Elijah has. After all, upon learning Kol was undaggered, he had been understandably worried. Without question, his youngest brother has a reputation best fit for marauders and usurpers. What had it been back in Spain? Ah yes, he’d take his chances there, perhaps become mayor of the town. His deplorable behaviour had resulted in his daggering then, along with every other instance afterwards. And yet-

_“Oh, face facts, brother. This is by far one of the lesser crimes you’ve caught me committing.”_

And yet, his reunion with Kol in this century had involved casual mischief in replacing road-signs within a town, accompanied by a girl clearly used to his company. Since then, Elijah has been… reflecting.

It is true he has spent a good many years of his immortal life attempting to keep Niklaus, if not on the straight and narrow, then from steering off the road to tear through the fields. Ah, an asinine metaphor, but the only adapt one that comes to mind during this time.

Regardless, his focus upon unearthing Niklaus’ better qualities has led to a distressing derelict of duty towards his younger siblings, Kol more so than Rebekah. Truly, he had not taken note of the situation until he had been exposed to his brother interacting with another in the know about their family, but also one who spends time with him simply for the innocent mischief they can undertake together.

Kol’s wretched behaviour has always been a sore point between the two of them but Elijah is beginning to realise that, for all Niklaus displays similar tendencies, he has never offered a similar consideration to his younger brother. He understands why of course; Niklaus is the bastard among them and Elijah has since strived to ensure his brother has never felt excluded among their number ever since he had uncovered the truth.

Which brings him back to the present.

“It is obvious in the actions and considerations he takes towards Elena that Kol is fond of her. While, in truth, this may partly be a result of her usefulness to your own cause, I do believe not all of it revolves around her role as a key component in your quest to retake New Orleans. In fact, if I were so to guess, it would seem Kol is fond of her simply because Elena Gilbert is a charming young woman willing to offer him the time of day.”

“Ah, but you do admit that part of the reason is she’s pivotal in my plans,” Niklaus snaps, one uncouth finger pointed near directly in Elijah’s face. 

He gently bats the hand away, refusing to rise to the challenge in Niklaus’ eyes.

“For centuries, brother, I have sought to prove your worth as a man, sought to keep this family together as we were hunted across continents by Mikael. Never once did I think to offer Kol the same consideration that you and, to a lesson extent, Rebekah have received. Evidentially, I have failed as an elder brother and for that, I shall strive to make it up to you. All of you.”

“Already one day in this city and you turn against me.”

“Open your eyes, Niklaus! Where upon this land do I stand? Whose side is it that I remain by! Not a thousand years have passed by where I have truly given up on you; even as I hunted you for the supposed burial of our siblings, not once did I ever consider you beyond saving, chafing as it is to admit such a fact. I side with family and, I believe that deep down, you know this to be true.”

Niklaus grits his teeth, twisting on his heels and launching the delightful vase Rebekah had once received as a courting gift into the sitting room. It explodes against the wall, leaving a terrible mark upon the worn walls that will have to be dealt with. In the very least, allowing Niklaus to throw his tantrum here and now would be in everybody’s best interests, before the cleaners and painters arrive.

“Even though we scoured the city for a decade, we never did find Kol’s apartment; that it is spelled to allow entry to none other than those Kol himself permits ensures it will be a sufficient safehouse for Elena, the prized doppelgänger who is so prevalent in your future plans.” 

Opening the diary again, Elijah scan the page for any and all mention of Kol. What with it being a single year since daggering him, he’d assumed there would have been some thought put towards his youngest brother. However, he’s a mere footnote.

It would appear he owes Kol a tad more consideration than he previously believed.

“If you are truly worried, brother, gain the alliance of a witch and have her spell the house,” Elijah continues, flicking to the next page, “but until such an action is taken, I find I agree with the lovely Miss Gilbert. Her safety would be best left with Kol, for the time being.”

* * *

“-return of the Originals, it’s even more imperative the Harvest goes ahead.”

Oh?

Pushing off against the wall, Kol makes his way to the gates of Lafayette Cemetery, hands digging deep into his pockets as he watches the two women approach the entrance. One black, one white, both clearly witches. It takes them a few moments, but they stop when they spot him, leaving about eight feet between them. Eight feet, and the entrance to consecrated ground, of course. From the way their eyes don’t leave him, from the way they keep their hands free and open by their sides, they know he’s a vampire. If they know he’s one the of Originals is a different matter.

“Good morning,” Kol chirps, lifting one hand to offer them a little wave, watching the duo watch him. The wind is mild as it ruffles through his hair, unaided by any magical influence. “Lovely day for a little chat with potential allies, isn’t it?”

They don’t have a clue what to make of him. Ideally, Kol would have been able to make contact with the witches away from the source of their power, away from their cemetery. Ideally, he’d have been able to do it away from the prying eyes of the vampires (creatures loyal to Marcellus? Or has Nik already gotten to them?) but that’s not applicable either.

“We do not ally with vampires,” the white one snaps, folding her arms across her chest, nose in the air and a face almost similar to Rebekah whenever she spots a fashion disaster on the streets.

“Please, everyone needs allies. And I find witches make excellent allies to Original vampires who actually respect them.” At that, they both share a look. Surely, if anything of his reputation has survived into this modern age, it will be his treatment of witches.

“Respect witches?” the black one repeats, adjusting her perfectly coiffed hair, dark eyes lingering on Kol’s self-assured form. “I seem to recall a warning being issued towards any deals with Kol Mikaelson after what happened to Mary-Alice and Astrid.”

“That was Nik’s fault, not mine,” Kol snaps, face darkening at the memory. He had liked Mary-Alice, she’d been his favourite witch at the time. Learning of her fate had been a sour-point yesterday, though the irritation at still remaining barred from his little clubhouse holds strong. “Though you’ll probably know him as Klaus. And, if you can contact your ancestors, then you’ll know it’s true.” Kol tilts his head to a side, looking up at the witches through his lashes in a move that has resulted in his entanglement in the sympathies of their kind so many times before. “I am the innocent party in this.”

“That, I highly doubt,” the black woman says, though from the look to her face, she knows exactly what’s going to happen now.

“And you have a grudge against Klaus as a result,” the other states, taking a step forward. “I am Bastianna Natale and this is Agnes Malchance.”

“Ah, a Malchance!” Kol beams, inspecting the other with new eyes. Far from the beauty Astrid was, but he supposes that happens with age. He never got to see his other witch age, what with Nik getting in the way. A shame. “A pleasure. Kol Mikaelson, though I assume you had already guessed that by now? You see, I’m looking for a Claire witch.”  
  


Whistling, Kol strides down the street, eyes flicking between the message on his phone and the shop signs. So much has changed and, despite a day to familiarise himself with the city, there’s still so much ground to cover. The French Quarter remains Marcellus’ land for the time being, it would seem. Given that no bodies strew the streets, it would appear Nik has yet to make his move either. Regardless of how he does it, the event promises to be savage and bloody. He hopes his dear brother holds out on that front; it will be so much easier to slide things past his notice if Nik’s already on a warpath with someone else. Witches, wolves, vampires, it doesn’t matter who. As long as he’s occupied, then Kol’s happy. And speaking of vampires-

Standing outside Boutique du Vampyre, Rebekah spots him and scoffs, freeing her arms from where they’re folded across her chest.

“Finally. I’ve been waiting twenty minutes for you to turn up.”

“Sorry, Bekah. Though I must say, I am curious how I’ve managed to end up guarding the doppelgänger. I was so sure Nik would never let her out of his sight.” It’s the utter truth falling from his lips right now. The task is hardly an unpleasant one; if anything, it could make his life far easier than it is currently. But he’s still confused and half expecting a trap.

“Your apartment was the key selling point, if I hear Elijah tell it correctly. Not that I’m really bothered. I’m far more interested in returning to the Abattoir and finding out if that little titbit of information Nik shared is true.” Ah, yes, she and Marcellus had a little tryst back in the day, didn’t they?

“Ah, Bekah. Still a harlot I see. Don’t worry, I’ll preserve the Mikaelson family dignity for the both of us.”

“Please, the only reason you’ll manage that is because Elena won’t allow you into her pants.” She leaves before Kol can get another word in edgeways, leaving him standing outside and aptly named shop with a delightful little doppelgänger for company. 

Ducking into the dark shop, Kol’s lips tilt up at the vast array of curiosities spread out before him. Clearly, the business is run by a human; there’s nothing in here that hints to witchy connections.

“Kol! I got you a pin!” And there she is, skipping over to his side in order to present him with said pin. His eyes flick over the design, a familiar shape he dreads waking in, the text white and bold. ‘Fresh outta the coffin’.

“I love it, Darling. Now come along, I’ve got plans to introduce you to New Orleans’ favourite dish. Gumbo.”

Rousseau’s is a little bar, nothing special barring the fact a witch works here, thus making it a hotspot for others to gather without issue. There’s a shallow ring above his head as Kol pushes open the door, fingers linked with Elena’s as he reels her into the bar.

“Item twenty-three on your list was to try New Orleans gumbo, am I right, Darling?”

“Well, old age certainly hasn’t affected your memory,” Elena chirps, making her way for one of the bar stools. There’s only a few occupants inside the bar, despite it being a weekend. Well, it is winter and mid-day, it’s understandable that the tourists won’t be out and about right now. Bars are usually frequented at night, are they not? Kol joins Elena at the bar on a stool of his own, feet balanced on the metal rung. Elena’s quick to wiggle free of her jacket, laying it across her lap before turning her charming smile on the bartender, a pretty enough woman with a kind smile. 

“Hi, could I get a coke, no ice please, and this one’ll probably have a bourbon?” She finished the latter part of her sentence as a question, lifting her brows as she stares him in the eye. Kol grins back, resting an elbow on the bar and nodding his consent. 

“I’m gonna need to see some ID for that.” Ah, yes. Another charm of the modern era; the legal drinking age. He bets Nik doesn’t have to deal with these kinds of questions. Bastard’d probably laugh in their faces if they asked. 

Turning his eyes on the woman, Kol allows his pupils to dilate, laying the vampiric magic (the only fucking magic he can use) on thick.

“No, you don’t.”

“We don’t welcome your kind here,” the woman snaps, eyes narrowed and there’s the beginnings of a headache forming in his frontal lobe. Excellent, here’s the witch.

“Well, seeing as you know what that was, do you really need ID?” Kol asks, fist pressing into his cheek, leaning on the bar for support. As the witch continues to scowl, Kol continues, “I’m not here for any trouble. Just showing the lady around. I’ll be good for my visit, promise.”

“He will. If he ruins my first opportunity to get gumbo, I’ll be most upset with him,” Elena adds in, threading her fingers through his free hand and directing it to the bar top, palm down. “He’s a good boy, promise.”

“That I very much doubt,” the witch mutters, but she pours them their drinks anyway. Before her generosity and good will can disappear, Kol puts an order in for two helpings of gumbo and pays up front, still working his charming smile but this witch is having none of it.

“I thought you were supposed to be good with witches?” Elena teases, smile on her lips and straw balanced between her teeth. The semi-transparent pink bleeds brown as Elena sucks the cola up. She then looks him in the eye and he knows what’s coming a second before she does it. She blows into the liquid, bubbles hissing and fizzing and droplets of carbonated liquid leaping free of their glass container. Snatching up a straw of his own from the bar-top dispenser, Kol quickly dips it into Elena’s drink and begins sucking up the coke. 

“Wha- hey! That’s mine!” Her palm (small and cold) presses hard against his nose to drive him back, but Kol snatches up the glass and drags it along with him, laughing at Elena’s whimpering cry. Upon swiftly realising the futility of trying to get him off her drink, she settled for trying to drain more of the liquid than he can, cheeks hollowing with the effort. The glass empties at a rate that would probably be alarming if one person were drinking it. Soon enough, their straws are battling in the glass base over the last droplet dregs, the plastic pink and orange knocking against each other as they direct the straws with only their lips. Of course, Kol easily succeeds in securing the last drop of coke, pumping the air victoriously. 

“You meanie,” Elena whines, jabbing her fingers into the tender flesh between his lower ribs and hipbone wiggling like he didn’t desensitise himself to tickling centuries ago. 

“Nice try, Trouble, but that doesn’t work on me.” 

“Won’t work on me either.” She’s lying through her teeth, it’s blatantly obvious on her face and Kol dearly looks forwards to putting the proclamation to the test at a later date. However, their gumbo has arrived and he is, quite frankly, famished. 

  
  


It’s good, not that he doesn’t expect it to be. New Orleans gumbo retains its title as one of his top ten meals with ease. Perhaps it’s not the greatest match-up for his bourbon, but who cares for the little details? Kol orders a second coke for Elena, which she sips at between mouthfuls of her lunch. And conversation, well, it’s pleasant. Elena’s more than happy to discuss her interests when he asks after them, but she’s also deeply fascinated in what he knows. About the cultures he’s experienced, the different stages of history he’s lived through. 

“-of course, it’s a little spotty, given how Klaus likes to deal with anything he considers misbehaviour, hence why I’ve been working on a way to put him out of commission for a bit. Tit for tat, and all. But that’s a far off dream until I can contact a Claire witch.”

“Shame. More importantly, is your apartment actually habitable now, or am I going to spend my nights plastering my feet to your shins?” 

“You say that as if I will be home every night, Darling. I’m a hot blooded male in the prime of my life!” he finishes dramatically, offering a saucy wink and allowing his fingertips to scamper across Elena’s thigh, just below where her folded jacket rests. She swats lazily at his hand but, other than that, doesn’t do much else to drive him off. 

“Speaking of spending nights out on the town, does this count?”

“You mean, do I have every intention of stealing you for an hour or two every day that includes a ‘T’ within its name? Yes, I do. We’ll call it date night.” It’s forwards, it’s bold, it’s worked with so many other women before her and Elena is no different. She smiles, the one that lifts her cheeks and nips at the corners of her eyes. 

“Sounds good. I’ll plan the next one, though we’ll have to agree to rain checks if one of us is busy. And, while we’re on the topic, I’m not letting you or Klaus bounce ideas off me for forewarning. I’ll only share if one of you’s going to end up hurt by it all.” She smiles, licking at her thumb and then brushing it against the corner of his lip. A droplet of broth sits on the pad of her thumb when she draws it back and Elena sucks it between her lips. Alright, so he’s not the only one with a few seduction techniques hidden up his sleeves. 

“I’ll change your mind soon enough, Trouble. As for the apartment, I ensured it was all updated yesterday-” by compelled guppies who can’t remember eight hours of their life now “-and you just need to pick out a few soft furnishings. Might as well select a duvet you like, seeing as you’re going to be spending so much time in my bed.” 

“You know, any other person would buy another bed if they knew they were having a guest sleep over for a few nights.” 

“Let’s not play pretend, Darling. You and I both know this is not only far more favourable, but would have been the eventual outcome anyway.” 

“You’re very cocksure.”

“Interesting word choice there,” Kol says with a snicker, accepting the soft punch to the arm Elena gives in return. All in all, this appears to have been a successful trip. One thing crossed off of Elena’s list, their relationship has strengthened and he’s sown seeds in more than one field.  
  


The only question is, how long until he can begin reaping his rewards?


	31. Part 2 - Chapter 4

_13.12.09_

Kol wakes to the most delicious smell that’s ever existed within his apartment. Peeling one eye open, he glances to the bedroom door, already aware that he’s the sole occupant of the bed. There’s no nearby heartbeat, no external heat source buried beneath the blankets. Just him, alone, with warm calves. It means Little Miss Cold Feet has to be up and about and the source of that smell. The idea of retreating from the comforts of the bed isn’t as terrible as it had been before he’d had the twenty-first century’s version of heating installed in his flat. Now, it comes on at six o’clock in the morning and remains on throughout the day at various levels. It’s blissful; why has it taken the humans so long to come up with this? Still, it does take him a moment to strip himself of the covers (a warm, yellow-grey mix that Elena had picked out yesterday) and get to his feet. The floorboards are warm (underfloor heating; why had they thrown the Roman’s grand idea out, only to come back to it centuries later?) as he pads towards the main room.

Behind the little kitchenette, Elena stands, wrapped up in a thick, fleece dressing gown with half her hair pinned back from her face. She’s near completely turned away form him, pouring something from a glass jug across a baking tray. The source of the delicious smell? Most probably.

It’s easy, passing across the space between them silently, running his fingers down her back to rest at her hips. Though he does have to abort his grip on one in order to save the glass jar when she jumps in shock.

“Good morning, Darling. What is this?” Head on her shoulder, Kol peers down at what is indeed the source of the sweet smell, inspecting the melted chocolate that has been smeared liberally across the surface. 

“Good morning, Kol. It’s flapjack of the chocolate covered variety.”

“Sounds delicious.” He sweeps away, taking a seat at the table with the glass jar still in hand. There’s plenty of melted chocolate smeared along the insides and he happily sticks his finger in, licking it from his fingertip as Elena stares grumpily after him.

“That melted chocolate was supposed to be mine.”

“You have the spoon still,” he states, gesturing to the very much covered spoon she’d been using to encourage the chocolate from the jar.

“Dirty thief.”

“Guilty.”

For the next two minutes, once Elena has taken the second chair, they sit there, devouring the chocolate remains with their feet knocking beneath the table. He should have turned the coffeemaker on before sitting down, but he’d been too focused on the delights of melted chocolate to consider it. It’s only as he’s finished licking the jar clean that Kol admits defeat and gets to his feet, switching the machine on and grabbing a cup from the cupboard. Then, he pauses, tilting his head back to look at the human sitting up to his table.

“Coffee?”

“Please. Milk, two sugars.”

The coffeemaker rumbles to life as he makes for the fridge, fetching the milk and jam jar. The ding of the toaster signals Elena too has gotten to her feet, followed by a rumble as she shifts through the bread bin.

“What’s on the agenda today then, Mr Mikaelson?” That is the question, isn’t it? He has agreed to host Elena (as if such a thing is a hardship) but he very much doubts that extends to babysitting their favourite human throughout the day. He has to hunt down his Clair witch, has to get access to his clubhouse again, along with find out what this Harvest business is. The word tickles at the back of his mind, probably mentioned in passing the last time he’d been in New Orleans but his stay here had been… spotty. Thanks for nothing, Nik. Speaking of-

“Have you checked with my dear brother regarding any plans he has for you?” Kol muses, sprinkling the required sugar into Elena’s cup. Part of him had toyed with the idea of throwing salt in instead, but the joy of a little prank could backfire if he’s not able to hand her off to Nik for the rest of the day. The last thing he wants to be dealing with is the cute little Doppelgänger getting her own back on him when he’s trying to get shit done. Seeing as she can get visions of the future, she could fuck up his plans spectacularly in return. So, sugar it is.

“Haven’t bothered to look at my phone since I woke up,” Elena confesses, tone sad. Ah, yes. The family they’ve compelled to believe her dead. Probably a sore spot. Not that it matters in the grand scheme of things; they’ll remember she’s alive once the nosy neighbours have lost interest in the whole thing. Only a few months to go.

“Maybe you should then. Nik’s not best known for his patience.” For his temper, apocalyptic anger, and general unpleasantness? Yes. Patience? No.

“Mmmm, will do. After breakfast.” Elena smears a great big helping of jam across her lightly done toast, hitting the button for the other two slices to pop up. These too are quickly covered in strawberry preserve, plated, then exchanged with him for a cup of coffee. They retreat to the table again, inhaling the rising steam and munching on toast.

“Not that I don’t enjoy your company, Trouble, but-”

“You have plans. I know.” Elena smiles, taking another bite of toast and chewing slow.

Well, at least they’re on the same page.

Luckily enough, Elijah has texted, informing him that he’ll be taking Elena out for the day in order to help organise some business and that he’ll pick her up on the street below, thus, leaving Kol free to run riot. He doesn’t say it in his text, but Kol gets the general gist. Any time Elijah is not monopolising his every waking hour means he’s being left to his own devices and his brother fully expects him to be messing with something or other, or out causing general mischief.

He dresses quickly, pulling on the leather jacket he’d acquired yesterday (clothes shopping; the twenty-first century has certainly improved in both comfort and style, that’s for sure) before making for the door.

“Oi, you’re not leaving without saying goodbye, are you?” Still wrapped up in a dressing gown and with her hair in that ridiculously half-up, half-down style, Elena leans against the hallway wall, arms folded across her chest and a wide grin on her lips.

“Apologies, Darling. I wasn’t aware I had to tell you when I was off out to cause mischief, mayhem and partake in some marauding,” he drawls sarcastically, eyes rolling as Elena brings her hands to rest on one of his arms. She rises to her tiptoes, lips grazing against the edge of his jaw. Kol spins, catching her wrist and pulling her into a proper kiss. No tongue; he’s, heh, a gentleman after all.

Elena pulls back first, lips pressed into a firm frown, like she can squash the extra blood he’s summoned up there with his kiss. The light dusting to her flushed cheeks only fuels his smirk.

“Well, next time I won’t bother to catch you for a goodbye kiss then.”

“Please, a peck to the jawline? I expect those in bed, Trouble, not as a goodbye. Goodbye kisses are the ones that are supposed to mean something.” Fluttering little kisses along his jawline usually lead down his neck in a trail that continues down; certainly, something meant for the bed (or up against the wall, on the table, in the shower… he’s not picky).

“Maybe after the second date,” Elena snorts, rolling her eyes before tapping at his arm with one of the hands still resting on it. “Have a good day, Kol. And be careful. The witches aren’t happy here and they’re planning something big. Certainly, something big enough that they’re cloaking it from others looking in on what they’re doing. It’s all one big hazy mess for me.”

Oh, well that is terribly interesting; no doubt they’re trying to cover up their movements from any witch that’s on Klaus, Kol or Marcel side.

“Thanks for the tip off; try not to let Nik scramble your brains too much.”

He makes for the bar from yesterday. It’s a good a starting point as any, that’s for sure. The witch hadn’t been best impressed with him, but she had always served him food and drink and left him well alone. Given the tensions between the New Orleans vampires and the witches, it’s intriguing. Oh, he’d certainly dropped enough hints that he’s the one they should be siding with. His little mention of a way to permanently put Nik out of commission must have struck their interest, unless they’re fools, that is. If any of them have bothered to listen to their ancestors (which, given they practice ancestral magic they damn well should be doing), then they’ll know Nik is the one they should be dealing with first.

Pushing open the door, Kol swans in without fear, scanning the bar for the witch. She’s not there; not a big surprise, but still disappointing. It’s not like he doesn’t have the time to waste; he has plenty of that. Still, it’s easy to make an order for a drink when the waitress can be compelled.

Relaxing back into a booth, Kol scan the handful of faces inside, stopping on the one sitting at the back. Mary Alice’s high-brow, her ringlet; her descendant. And she’s looking right at him too. Perfect.

* * *

Elijah greets her on the street, standing beside what she’s relatively sure is his car; it looks posh enough, expensive and shiny enough to scream ‘I am Elijah Mikaelson’s car’.

“Good morning, Elijah!”

Bouncing the short distance between them, Elena halts a mere foot before the elder vampire, hands clasped behind her back and a cute little smile on her face. Elijah sniffs.

“You’ve been baking.”

“Mmm, flapjack. It’ll have set by the time I get back; I’ll bring some tomorrow.”

Elijah hums, peeling a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit and offering it to her. Elena tentatively accepts, fingers running across the fine cloth, the initials embroidered into one corner.

“You have some jam in the corner of your lip. Now come along, there is a great deal to be done so it is best we start early.”

“Before Klaus wakes up, by any chance?” Elena asks, dabbing at the edges of her lips, right, then left, inspecting the splodge of jam that transfers to the handkerchief. How on earth she’d managed to have spill over when she’d used only a light layering of the strawberry flavoured condiment, Elena has no idea.

Elijah says nothing of the sort, but he does offer her a charming smile, so Elena takes it as an agreement to her question, allowing the vampire to walk her the three or four feet to his car.

“And Rebekah?”

“Rebekah is still coming to terms with the fact Marcellus has survived what we had thought was his own gruesome death. As you may expect, she’s not best pleased. I suspect she will be along to see Klaus’ wayward son very shortly.”

“Huh.”

The drive is relatively quiet. Despite expectations otherwise, Elijah is not one to listen to classical music within his car. More so, he has little problem with her turning on the radio to listen to the charts and, though his head doesn’t bop along to the music like hers, he does tap at the steering wheel to the tunes.

After the near domestic morning alongside Kol, it’s a little strange to be right back to normal, tagging along with another Mikaelson brother to get knee deep in scheme or another. She does wonder what they’re up to. As far as Elena is aware, there is no pregnant werewolf; Klaus has already been warned about the consequences of unprotected sex with anything that can reproduce. He’d scoffed at her but, as she’s not seen visions of bouncing bundles of babies in her future (because fuck yeah, she’d make an awesome babysitter/honorary aunt), she thinks he’s taken her warning to heart.

They pull up outside of a cute little Mexican a five-minute drive away, parking in the large car-park that’s just across the road. The architecture here is incredibly consistent. If Klaus was being truthful when he regaled her with tales of this city and how he had a hand in a lot of the styles chosen for construction, then their tastes aline more than she previously thought.

“A little early for lunch, isn’t it?” Elena asks, car door swinging shut behind her. The sky is near cloudless, the sun bright if not warm. Well, it’s warmer than Mystic Falls would have been at this time of year; she only needs a jacket, not a full out coat.

“Perhaps. I do hope you will forgive me, Elena, for infringing on your usual dining schedule.”

“Please, if you’re paying for a meal out where I can try new foods, there’s nothing to forgive.” Grinning, Elena fingers the phone in her pocket in what is becoming a somewhat recognisable habit. Is it down to nerves? Or the need to do something with her fingers? Perhaps she should look into something more productive, something like knitting. There’s always a need for scarves and socks, isn’t there?

They’re shown to their seat by the window and Elena helps herself to the menu, flicking through the worn laminated pages with genuine interest. There wasn’t a Mexican in Mystic Falls (surprise surprise) and every time they’d gone out as a family before, well, before everything doppelgängery had kicked off, they’d always taken a packed-lunch. Jeremy’s fault; he’d been resistant to trying new things as a child and then they just, hadn’t really gone out much when he’d hit his teenaged years.

Elijah doesn’t try to make pleasant conversation while she looks and for that, Elena is thankful. She’s trying to wrap her head around the names of the dishes, reading through the basic summary of the meals. It’s only been two hours since she ate breakfast but breakfast had just been toast on its own.

“Hey now, if I’d known we could bring pretty company, I’d have had a tag along of my own.” Marcel?

Lifting her head up from the menu, Elena considers their new company, watching him take a seat, placing a clearly alcoholic beverage down upon the tabletop. Elijah doesn’t look surprised or in fact, displeased by his presence (not that Elena thinks she’ll be able to notice the latter, but, hey, maybe?) so it would seem this is a meeting on his list of ‘great deal of things to be done today’.

“If I’d known I was being invited to a meeting, I’d have thrown on my clown outfit,” Elena fires back, ignoring the look of confusion the vampire throws her in favour of leaning back in her chair, making herself comfortable. “Good morning, Marcellus Gerard. You are looking remarkably hale considering Klaus’ temper.”

The other smiles, all easy humour and Elena shuffles her chair around the table a bit so she’s sitting more beside Elijah than just at the same table as him. If it looks like she’s physically taking sides then, that’s because she is. Team Mikaelson all the way, even with the infighting.

“It’s funny how things work out, isn’t it? And while I’d love to get to the bottom of the human running around with the Mikaelsons, I’m afraid it’s Elijah I’m here to see, Sweetheart.”

“Elena. If you would be kind enough to make my order as well, then you will do me a kindness. Here.” Elijah finishes scribbling down something on the notepad that’d been in the centre of the table, offering it to her along with one of his (what she assumes will be many) cards. It’s a clear dismissal, though from what, Elena’s not sure.

The phantom taste of Kol’s blood from the other day sits heavy on her tongue as she makes her way to the bar to order, offering a smile to the waitress who looks to Marcel with shrewd eyes. She’s not sure if the girl is a witch or if she’s just well informed; either way, Elena has no intention of pulling any more attention to herself.

“Hi there. I’d like to make an order please?”

After a truly horrific mangling of the pronunciation of the Mexican food that they will be dining on, Elena makes her way back to the table.

“-the safety of those you consider your own, I implore you to make amends with Niklaus and to stop sauntering about the city as if you have become it’s prince!”

“I ain’t a prince! I’m the King of New Orleans now! The vampires? They answer to me now. You all left with your tails between your legs. It’s me who built all this up from the ground, who got rid of the werewolves, who’s backing the witches into a corner! Me! And I’ll be damned it I let you take any of that from me!”

Yeah, probably not the best time to swan back over to the table, but swan over Elena does, pressing the lemonade into Elijah’s hand as she takes up her chair again. She politely ignores the fact that Marcel is out of his, leaning over the table to stare Elijah in the eye, as if utterly unconcerned that he could be compelled. Chances of him being on some form of vervain are high then.

“I may be pointing out the obvious here, as I’m sure you’re both well aware given the amount of time you’ve spent in his company, but Klaus doesn’t like the answer no. Can get rather aggressive when he’s met with that response, in fact.” Both males turn to look at her, eyes dark and stares heavy in two very different ways. It’s at that point another person (most likely a vampire) bursts in and races over to them.

“Marcel! Klaus just bit Thierry.”

There’s a moment of still silence as everyone takes that in and Elena acknowledges that the world really could not have provided better timing of that announcement. Then, with the cool, calm composure of someone who is very much aware that he holds all the cards here, Elijah reclines back in his chair, lips tilting up into a little smile.

“Yes, rather like that.”


End file.
